


Sunshine

by Eldalire



Series: Dreaming Dreams [5]
Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Baby, Cute, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-17
Updated: 2015-12-28
Packaged: 2018-02-09 05:07:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 32
Words: 73,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1970088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eldalire/pseuds/Eldalire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maybe Enjolras and Grantaire weren't quite ready for a baby...But he's here, and they love him, and that's all that matters.</p><p>Most chapters can be read as 1 shots!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It had taken ten long months of waiting and testing and ultrasounds and traveling, but it was finally happening. Enjolras and Grantaire were sitting in the waiting room, hand in hand, with bated breath.  
“Do you think he’s okay? It’s been a long time.” Enjolras asked, leaning against Grantaire’s shoulder.  
“Yeah. Don’t worry! They’ll let us back as soon as he’s all ready to go.  
“I just want to hold him.”  
“I know. Just wait.”  
“How can you be so patient? Don’t you want to see him?”  
“Of course I do! But freaking out over it won’t bring him out here sooner.” He explained with a smile, draping his arm around Enjolras’ shoulders.  
“I hope they let us back to see him soon.”  
“They will. Don’t worry.” He whispered against Enjolras’ ear, kissing his temple. Enjolras sighed lightly, but nearly jumped through the ceiling when the nurse pushed the door open.  
“Enjolras and Grantaire?” she asked with a smile, butchering Enjolras’ name. They had flown all the way to America for this, and thus far, nobody had gotten his name correct on the first try, but at this point, he didn’t care.  
“Yes! Yes that’s us!” he nearly shouted, a smile stretched across his face. Grantaire stood behind him and laughed, as did many of the other waiting visitors in the waiting room.  
Enjolras was usually so put together and calm. It was funny. For someone so serious, it didn’t take much to get Enjolras excited. He was so passionate about everything, and sometimes that passion turned into raw energy and emotion. Grantaire took his hand.  
“Come on back with me!” she said, giggling at Enjolras’ reaction. He followed enthusiastically, and Grantaire followed with just as much gusto as she lead them into the recovery room. There, a tired, sweaty, smiling woman sat with a crying newborn in her lap. She looked up at them as they entered, and immediately, Enjolras walked to the bedside, a look of total and complete awe on his face as she handed him the little baby boy.  
“Hello, Little Baby.” He said quietly, holding the bundle of blue blankets close to his chest. Grantaire stood behind him, reaching down and running his thumb against the back of the baby’s pudgy hand. A tear rolled down his cheek.  
“Hey buddy.” He said in greeting. The baby grabbed his finger and held it tight.  
“Thank you. Thank you so much, Abigail.” Enjolras said tearfully, looking to the woman who sat in the bed. She had acted as their surrogate, and had completely changed their lives. She only smiled. “He’s perfect.”  
“He looks just like you.” Grantaire said as Enjolras handed him the baby carefully. Grantaire pulled the baby’s hat up just slightly, and his smile broadened when he saw the slightest wisp of golden curls. “Look at his hair.”  
“I wish he had some of you in him too.” Enjolras said, covering the baby’s exposed arm with the end of the blue blanket.  
“That’s alright. He’s perfect exactly how he is.”  
“Do you have a name picked out?” Abigail asked, leaning back in the bed as the nurse tended to her, giving her a cup of water, which she accepted gratefully.  
“We never did decide, did we?” Enjolras said, looking up at Grantaire. He shook his head.  
“Do you have ideas?” Grantaire asked the woman. She thought for a moment.  
“Nothing French!” she admitted.  
“That’s okay!” Enjolras said, sitting on the side of the bed. Grantaire sat in the chair in the corner, the baby asleep in his arms. “What do you think?”  
“Oh I couldn’t.” she replied. “He’s yours, not mine!”  
“You took care of him 24/7 for the past nine months! You deserve some sort of say!” Grantaire chuckled, keeping quiet so as not to wake the baby.  
“Charlie? Nathaniel…” she suggested. Enjolras looked to Grantaire.  
“What do you think?” he asked. Grantaire thought for a long moment.  
“Napoleon.” He said with a smirk. Enjolras’ eyes widened.  
“Don’t even go there.” He said, laughing back.  
“How about Claude? That’s your dad’s name.” he suggested. Enjolras shook his head.  
“I don’t want to name him after my dad…”  
“We could name him Grantaire Junior.”  
“Be serious!” Enjolras replied.  
“You know I am incapable of that.” Grantaire chuckled.  
“we could just call him Jean…” Enjolras said, looking at the baby.  
“Nah, that’s so common. What about Gaston.” Grantaire said.  
“No…one’s…slick as Gaston, no one’s quick as Gaston!” Enjolras sang.  
“It’s perfect!” Grantaire said. “You’re beauty, I’m the beast, and now we have Gaston.”  
“Grantaire!” he laughed. Abigail chuckled.  
“That’s French!” she cooed.  
“Julien? Bennett? Oliver?” Enjolras suggested.  
“No I don’t like that…” Grantaire said, looking down, thinking hard. “What about Charmont?”  
“What does that mean?” Abigail asked.  
“Lovely.” Enjolras replied. “That’s sweet, but I’m not sure…Jehan will call him that all the time anyway.” He smiled.  
“I like that sort of word idea, though. It’ll mean something. That way we can get the English in there too. I mean, he’s technically an American citizen.” He grinned.  
“You’re right.”  
“We could name him Dion, like Dionysus. You used to call me that in college, before we really met.”  
“I do not want our baby to be a drunk, Grantaire.” Enjolras laughed.  
“Marlon means ‘little falcon’. That’s cool.” Grantaire said.  
“You could name him Rocky, like the wrestler. That’s very American.” Abigail suggested.  
“I like Leone. That’s lion.” Enjolras said.  
“That’s a little out there…” Grantaire said. “What about René.”  
“I like that.” Enjolras smiled.  
“Does that mean something?” Abigail asked.  
“Reborn.” Enjolras replied.  
“I just thought since he looks just like you…” Grantaire shrugged.  
“Yes. That’s perfect.” He smiled. “Baby René.”  
“He needs a middle name.” Abigail said, “I mean, if you want…that’s common in America.”  
“Marius.” Grantaire said.  
“No.” Enjolras tossed back immediately. Grantaire laughed. “It might be sweet to name him after a friend, though…”  
“Well…You’ve got Courf, Combeferre, Jehan, Feuilly, Joly, Bossuet, Marius, and Bahorel. Pick one.”  
“You pick.”  
“I can’t. I came up with the first name.” he smiled, looking down at the baby who was sleeping soundly in his arms.  
“I’ve always been close with Jehan…” Enjolras said. “But I don’t want to hurt any feelings…”  
“Well he can’t have ten names.” Grantaire smiled. “Go with Jehan. I mean, it isn’t technically Jehan’s name…” Enjolras nodded.  
“You’re right.” He nodded. “René Jehan. That’s sweet.” He smiled, taking out his iPhone and snapping a picture of Grantaire and the baby. He sent it to everyone with the message ‘Everyone meet René Jehan!’. Jehan replied almost immediately with:  
Jehan> 6:33 – Enjolras he’s beautiful! I’m so happy you picked Jehan it’s a wonderful name! That’s why I picked it! Oh I’m crying he’s lovely you’re so lucky!

Messages from the others came quickly after.

Joly> 6:34 – Make sure he’s warm! Don’t touch him without washing your hands first! He’s very handsome, just like his daddies ;)  
Feuilly> 6:34 – Make sure you tell him how great his uncle Feuilly is.  
Bossuet> 6:35 – He’s so cute! Chubby cheeks. He looks like a little wrestler. Congrats!  
Eponine> 6:36 – OMG he’s ADORABLE bring him over as soon as you’re home!!! I want to meet him! PS ur cat is my new boyfriend.  
Cosette> 6:40 – Marius and I are both so proud of u! What a cutie! He looks just like you, Enj!  
Courfeyrac> 6:41 – Should have named him after me. Jk! He’s cute! Can’t wait to meet him!  
Combeferre> 6:41 – Congratulations, guys! ur gonna be great daddies!  
Mom> 6:50 – Your Papa and I are so proud of you. Love you baby.

Enjolras sat down on the arm of the chair next to Grantaire and read all of the messages aloud. Abigail smiled.  
“All of your friends sound so sweet.” She said, listening.  
To: all  
Me> 6:52 – Love you guys! Courf: René Courfeyrac doesn’t sound as nice…we considered all of your names, though ;)  
Courfeyrac> 6:53 – :D  
Feuilly> 6:54 – I’m glad u didn’t call him Feuilly that’s weird im weird  
Eponine> 6:55 – lol Feuilly

Enjolras chuckled, putting the phone back into his pocket.  
“I don’t believe this. We’ve been waiting so long and now he’s here and he’s perfect.” Enjolras said, holding the baby’s hand. René squeezed it in his sleep.  
“I’m so happy for you guys. You’re going to make great parents, I can tell.” Abigail said with a smile.

 

~Yay baby!


	2. Chapter 2

It was three in the morning, and the baby screamed for what seemed like the thousandth time that night.  Enjolras rolled over with a groan, and Grantaire grunted into his pillow.

            “Your turn.” Enjolras mumbled.

            “I’m naked.” Grantaire replied.

            “Don’t care.”

            “Come on, you’re wearing pants.”  Enjolras sighed heavily, peeling himself up out of bed, pushing his glasses onto his face, and walking over to the corner of the room where the baby’s crib was located. Enjolras reached into the little bed and picked up René, bouncing him up and down lazily, hardly able to keep his eyes open.

            “Please. Please stop crying.” Enjolras begged, leaving the room and closing the door so that Grantaire could go back to sleep. He took the baby into the kitchen and held him close.  “You are my sunshine, my only sunshine.  You make me happy when skies are grey…” he sang, heating up a bottle.  “You’ll never know, dear, how much I love you. Please don’t take my sunshine away.” He finished, taking the bottle out of the heater and giving it to René, who quieted immediately, sucking away contentedly.

            “Are you my Sunshine, René?  Your Papa calls me Sunshine, but I think you’re more deserving of the name than I am.” He said, so tired he could hardly thing straight.  He was holding a conversation with an infant and thought nothing of it.

            “Are you ready to go back to sleep, baby?” he asked when most of the bottle was gone.  René was already asleep in his arms.  Enjolras smiled. That baby, that one tiny little person, made him happier than anyone or anything ever had before. Even though he hadn’t slept in a week, his hair was falling out from stress, and there were dark circles around his eyes, Enjolras was overjoyed. 

He stood up slowly, desperate to keep the baby asleep, and tiptoed back into the bedroom, placing René gently back into his crib and slipping back into bed beside Grantaire. He looped his arm around Enjolras’ waist.

“You okay?” he asked, kissing his hair. 

“perfect.” Enjolras smiled, snuggling into Grantaire.

“You’re a better daddy than me.”

“No you’re a wonderful daddy, Grantaire.”

“I don’t sing.” He smiled against Enjolras’ ear.

“You heard that?” he asked, blushing in the dark.

“Mm hm. You’re a nice singer. I bet you did all that theatre shit in high school.”

“I did.” Enjolras replied with a smile.

“What were you in?”

“Wicked…Next to Normal, Hairspray, Catch Me if you Can…”

“My talented Apollo.” Enjolras hummed contentedly into Grantaire’s chest, closing his eyes, falling asleep almost immediately. Grantaire tipped up Enjolras’ chin with his hand and kissed is lip gently, lightly, before closing his eyes as well, his hand tangled in Enjolras’ unruly golden curls, imagining René as a little boy, with hair just like Enjolras’.  Would he grow it out and keep it in a little ponytail?  People would think he was a girl, but that was okay. He would be so handsome, just like Enjolras.

Grantaire smiled, glad he had convinced Enjolras to give some of himself for the baby instead of adopting.  Enjolras was so ethereally beautiful, Grantaire couldn’t stand to see his flawless genes go to waste. It sounded strange, but Grantaire wanted their little boy to be just like Enjolras in every way. He wanted him to be headstrong and intelligent and well spoken.  He wanted him to be outgoing and unafraid.  He wanted him to have a vision, and he wanted him to be passionate. And even though it sounded shallow, he wanted René to be beautiful, with thick, golden curls and bright blue eyes, and a sprinkling of freckles across his thin nose. 

He knew that Enjolras wished there was some way Grantaire could be a part of their baby too, but Grantaire was glad he was left out of the equation.  He didn’t want their child to be like him.  He didn’t want him to be cynical or argumentative. He didn’t want him to have greasy dark curls and a big nose.  He didn’t want him to be an alcoholic or depressed.  It wouldn’t have been a great loss if Grantaire’s gene pool evaporated, but Enjolras was special.  He needed to continue. He needed to be reborn—René.

Grantaire leaned over and took his phone off of his night table, being careful not to wake Enjolras. He swiped his thumb across the cracked screen, then tapped:

 

To: Courf, Combeferre, Ponine, Cosette, Marius, Jehan, Feuilly, Joly, Bossuet, Bahorel

Me>3:47 – Come over today at 1 to meet the little crying poop machine.

 

He chuckled at his own joke, too tired to make any real sense, too tired even to sleep.  It was a good thing, too, because his nearly-silent chuckle woke up René, who screamed.

            Grantaire sighed and looked over to Enjolras.  He hadn’t even woken up again, exhaustion getting the better of him.

Grantaire pulled on a pair of PJ pants, and headed over to the crib, picking up the baby and rocking him side to side. 

“You are my sunshine, my only sunshine…” he tried to sing, his voice off pitch, low and rumbly; not light and angelic like Enjolras’.  Even so, it seemed to calm the baby, and he stopped crying.  Instead, he reached up his little hand and tugged on Grantaire’s short, scruffy beard.

“Ow! Don’t do that, Sunshine!” he said, taking the blanket off of the back of the couch and letting the baby hold the corner of it.  “Pull on your blanket, not my gross beard.” He smiled.  René cooed, smiling and giggling.

“You are a little Sunshine, aren’t you?” he said, cradling the baby’s head in his hand. “You’ll never know, dear, how much I love you—”

“Please don’t take my sunshine away.” Enjolras finished with a smile, sitting down next to Grantaire. He grinned.

 

 

~Say hello!  Leave a comment!  Thank you for the kudos!


	3. Chapter 3

“Hey dorks I’m here to meet the poop machine.” Eponine shouted, coming in without knocking.  Enjolras jumped.  He had been asleep on the sofa while Grantaire fed René in the big armchair by the window.

            “Hey, ‘Ponine.” Grantaire said with a smile as the baby sucked away on his bottle.

            “Aw he’s so cute!” she cooed, sitting on the arm of the chair next to Grantaire and watching the baby’s big blue eyes as they looked up at her. Enjolras smiled, running a hand through his long, un-brushed curls.

            “Yeah he’s a cutie.” Grantaire agreed as René finished up his bottle. “Here, hold him for a sec while I get the burpie thing.” He said, handing Eponine the baby and running to the kitchen, grabbing the cloth and draping it over his shoulder. Eponine rocked him in her arms.

            “You’re pretty pudgy, huh?” she said, letting the baby hold onto her finger. Her smile faded when the baby hiccupped. “Here you have it.” She said, handing René back to Grantaire, who gave him a pat on the back, producing a little spit up.

            “That’s my baby!” he said, holding the baby and bouncing him up and down. René cooed and smiled.

            “Is that a smile I see!?” Eponine gushed, playing with one of the baby’s bare feet. “Are you so happy?!” She laughed lightly.

            “You okay, Apollo?” Grantaire asked with a smile.  Enjolras had fallen asleep on the couch again, sitting up this time, his hair waterfalling over the back of the sofa in curling golden rapids. He mumbled when he heard Grantaire ask for him.  “You have to eat lunch.” He said.  Enjolras pulled his head up off the back of the couch and nodded, standing and heading into the kitchen for a peanut butter sandwich. 

            Enjolras had gone into treatment for anorexia when he was 20, and though he had made a full recovery, sometimes he forgot to eat.  Grantaire always reminded him.

            “You look like a zombie, pretty boy.” Eponine called after him.

            “I am a zombie.” Enjolras replied.

            “He was up most of the night with the little guy.” Grantaire explained.

            “And why didn’t you get up, you meathead?” she asked Grantaire, crossing her arms.

            “He neglected to put pants on before bed and is apparently too modest to let the infant see him naked.” Enjolras teased.

            “Hey, you’ve been asleep all morning.” Grantaire tossed back.

            “You were up with him for no more than half and hour last night.” Enjolras replied, becoming slightly too intense.  He was cranky and tired, and didn’t want Grantaire to argue with him.

            “I like sleeping.” Grantaire said.  Enjolras made no reply and slapped peanut butter onto a slice of bread. Grantaire opened the door soon after someone knocked.  Jehan and Feuilly stood in the doorway. 

            “Hey guys.” Grantaire greeted them with a smile.

            “Hello, Love!” Jehan cooed.  Feuilly gave a little wave and a sort of half smile.  Jehan’s face lit up when he saw the baby in Grantaire’s arms. “Oh my goodness look how sweet he is! Can I hold him?” he asked, handing the flowers he had brought to Feuilly, who headed into the kitchen and put them into a glass of water.

            “Yeah sure.  Just keep your hand behind his head, he’s a little floppy.” Grantaire explained with a grin, handing the baby carefully to Jehan.

            “Oh you are so beautiful.  Look at his hair! It’s so thick and curly!” he said, rocking the baby lightly back and forth. 

            “He looks exactly like Enjolras.” Feuilly noted, inspecting the baby from over Jehan’s shoulder.  Grantaire smiled.

            “He’s a gorgeous little baby, Grantaire.  Look at his little nose!  He’s so sweet!” Jehan gave the baby an Eskimo kiss.  René grabbed Jehan’s long braid and yanked it, hard.

            “Ouch! Oh baby, that’s not for pulling!” Jehan cooed, not angry in the slightest.  He took the baby’s hand carefully out of his hair and Grantaire offered him one of his stuffed animals: a little elephant they had received in the mail from Gavroche.  Grantaire tutored him in middle school, and they became relatively good friends. He was Eponine’s little brother, but didn’t spend much time with his family.  Instead, he hung around Grantaire, going to art shows and events with him when Enjolras was at work.

            “You’re good at little guys, Jehan.” Grantaire said with a smile. “I almost dropped him when he yanked on The Beard.” He said, running his fingers through his dark beard. He hadn’t had time to shave in weeks, and even he had to admit he looked scruffy.

            “I like babies.” Jehan said, rocking René until he fell asleep. “And René is so, so sweet. He just seems to like everyone!”

            “He is very personable.” Enjolras said, walking back into the living room with his sandwich.  “Anybody want anything?” he asked.  Feuilly shook his head, sitting on the ataman.

            “No thanks, cutie.”  Eponine said, petting the cat, Roux, on the floor.  She had taken care of him while Enjolras and Grantaire were in America awaiting René, and had taken a liking to each other. 

            Jehan sat down, nestling himself into the corner of the sofa, holding the baby in his lap.  He recited quiet poems and sang little songs, smiling at the little bundle in his arms all the while. Feuilly watched Jehan with a contented grin on his face.  They had been married just over three years ago, and loved to just sit and observe Jehan and all his habits and quirks.  This was no different; he loved the way Jehan swayed side to side, cradling René and singing softly to him.  His smile broadened when Jehan giggled, the baby waking up and cooing happily.

            “Feuilly we need one.” Jehan said after a bit.  Eponine laughed.

            “See, you want one now, but then when it poops and cries and leaks weird things and you don’t want it anymore.” She said.  Grantaire chuckled.

            “I must admit, I really didn’t want him at three this morning…” Enjolras joked, sitting next to Jehan with a cup of coffee, his hair still a mess, a huge pajama shirt draped over his tiny frame.  He put his head on Jehan’s shoulder and watched the baby.  “But I really, really love him right now.” He smiled just as René gave a sort of frustrated grunt, his little face reddening with the promise of tears.

            “Oh don’t cry, Lovely!  Do you want your daddy?” he asked, handing the baby back to Enjolras, who took him with a smile.

            “There’s my little sunshine.” Enjolras said, combing his hand carefully, gently, through the baby’s wispy golden curls.  René sat comfortably in Enjolras’ lap, his head rested on Enjolras, who held his little hands.  Eponine answered the door again.

            “Hey! Is the little munchkin here? Courfeyrac asked.

            “All day every day.” Grantaire replied with a smile.  Combeferre, Marius, and Cosette followed Courfeyrac inside and grinned when they saw the baby.  Cosette was especially impressed, kneeling down in front of Enjolras and studying René closely.

            “Hello, little René!” she said softly.  Marius sat behind her.  “You’re such a little sweetie!  Oh look at that smile!”

            “He’s very smiley.”  Enjolras said. “He smiles all the time.”

            “He’s adorable.” She added, patting his head very gently.

            “He really does look exactly like you, Enjolras.” Combeferre said. “It’s amazing.  Do you know what the mother looked like?” he asked. Combeferre was a doctor, like Joly, and always wanted to know the logistics of anything involving health or wellness, including how René came to be.

            “She had blonde hair and green eyes.” Enjolras explained. “Grantaire wanted the blonde hair.” He smiled.

            “It’s so pretty.” Grantaire said, as if to validate himself. He sat down next to Enjolras and draped his arm around his shoulders.

            The moment of quiet was interrupted by the ringing of the phone.

            “Would you get that, Courf?” Grantaire asked.  Courfeyrac picked up the phone.  
            “Hello, you have reached the prestigious household of Enjolras and Grantaire, but seeing as they are both preoccupied with their baby, I, Courfeyrac, their secretary, will be taking your call.” He said in a business like fashion.  Combeferre and Feuilly laughed.

            “It’s Joly.” Joly replied meekly.  “Tell them Bossuet and I wish we could come, but I’m not feeling well, and I don’t want to get the baby sick.”

            “Alright. I will convey your message to them.”

            “Shut up, Courfeyrac.” Joly said.

            “Alright I’ll tell them.  Go lay down.” he replied, dropping the act.  Joly hung up first.  “Enj, Joly says he’s not feeling good and doesn’t want to get the baby sick.”

            “I can’t say I wasn’t expecting that, but alright.” He replied.

            “Oh! We got you guys this!” Combeferre said, handing Grantaire a box with a blue ribbon.

            “Thanks.” Grantaire smiled.

            “Open it!”

            “Okay…” he untied the bow and lifted the lid, revealing a wire mobile with colorful butterflies hanging here and there.

            “Wow that’s really nice!” Grantaire said, inspecting the butterfly’s wings. “Thank you!”

            “Oh look at the butterflies!” Jehan said with a smile, his legs pulled up to his chest as he sat in the corner of the couch.  He looked about five years old, between his small stature and his current childish position. 

            “They’re not butterflies!” Combeferre said, almost angry. “They’re moths! See, this one is a Comet moth, from Madagascar.  This one is a Promethea Silkmoth…” he pointed to each in turn.  “This is a Cecropia Moth, that one’s an Atlas moth, and the big one in the middle is a Luna moth.” He smiled.  Everyone was awkwardly silent for a moment before Jehan blinked and said “Oh.”

            “Well…Thanks!” Grantaire said again.

            “They’re not real, are they?” Enjolras asked.  “I’d prefer not to have dead moth bits rain down on my child in the middle of the night.”

            “No of course not!” Courfeyrac said.  “I wouldn’t allow that!”

            “They’re a sort of clay and feathers.” Combeferre explained.  “I got it at an art show a few weeks ago.”

            “Cool.” Grantaire said with a smile. The baby gave a little gurgle, and Enjolras turned him around in his lap.

            “You okay, Sunshi—” René threw up all down Enjolras’ front, including the ends of his hair. “Oh my God.” Said, mortified, his eyes wide, his immaculate mouth hanging open in shock.  “Grantaire, give me that burpie cloth.” He said flatly. Grantaire handed it to him while everyone laughed.  Eponine rolled on the floor, near tears from laughing so hard.

 

 

~Yay!  More words!  Comments make me happy! Tell me what you think!  Any ideas?  I'd be happy to put your ideas in too :)


	4. Chapter 4

Enjolras sat at the kitchen counter, his head propped up on his hand, his fingers tangled in his hair as he read the impossible amount of emails on his laptop. He and Grantaire learned early on that children are expensive, and Enjolras had to work overtime on months when Grantaire wasn’t selling any artwork.  He honestly didn’t mind.  Enjolras was a talented, intelligent man, and actually enjoyed court cases, but when people sent him ridiculous emails asking for representation or questions about his costs or complaints or what he thought of something that honestly didn’t matter, he became irritated.  He didn’t like wasting time, and that was exactly what he was doing.

            He was even more on edge on this particular morning, however, because it was René’s first birthday, June 10, and his parents were coming for a visit.  Grantaire was out to breakfast with a client interested in his illustrations, René was taking his morning nap, and Enjolras was trying to sort through his emails, but eventually, even he cracked and couldn’t take it any more.  He closed the computer and sighed, taking off his glasses and rubbing his eyes.

            “Dadd-y!” René babbled from his playpen, where he had been sleeping moments before. Enjolras stood up from his stool at the counter and headed over to René, who stood up with help from the edges of the playpen.

            “Hello, my Sunshine!” Enjolras said, lifting him up under his arms and giving him a hug. René clapped.  “Did you have a nice nap?” the baby pointed to the kitchen. Though he was beginning to say simple things, like ‘daddy’ and ‘papa’ and ‘Ren’, which is what he called himself, he couldn’t quite express himself properly and usually pointed to what he wanted. This action often confused Grantaire, prompting René to become frustrated, but Enjolras was much better at decoding him, and René usually asked for ‘daddy’—Enjolras—when he wanted something.

            “Would you like your yogurt?” Enjolras asked.  René smiled and said ‘no!’ very agreeably.

            “René can you say ‘yes’?” Enjolras asked.

            “No.” René replied.

            “Y-e-s” Enjolras sounded out slowly.

            “No.” René insisted again. Enjolras laughed and put the baby in his high chair, taking one of his baby yogurts out of the refrigerator and peeling it open. He dipped the spoon into the container, giving it a little stir before giving René a spoonful.

            “Is that good? You like the blueberry ones, don’t you?” René banged on the highchair tray. “Open!” Enjolras said, tapping the spoon against the baby’s mouth.  He opened his mouth, as did Enjolras.  Grantaire was always laughing at how Enjolras opened and closed his mouth when he fed the baby.  Numerous pictures and videos had been taken of him making ridiculous faces while feeding René.

            “Papa.” The baby cooed.

            “Papa is at work, René. He’ll be back soon.”

            “Papa!”

            “Yes Papa will be home soon! Are you not enjoying my company?” Enjolras asked with a chuckle, feeding the baby the last of the yogurt, then giving him a handful of Cheerios to play with while he tidied up the apartment for his parents. 

            “Daddy.”

            “Would you like to get down? I have to clean up for Mimi and Pepe, but you can help, if you’d like.” Enjolras said, lifting René up and out of his highchair.  He carried him into their bedroom, where his parents would be staying, and took the plain comforter off of the bed so it could be replaced by the ‘company blankets’—the formal bedspread they saved for visitors. 

            “Would you like to help me fold this all up?” Enjolras asked. 

            “No!” René cooed, walking as best he could to the fluffy comforter on the floor.  Enjolras grinned, taking the baby and laying him down on the end of the comforter.  “Stay there, baby!” he said, rolling René over and over, wrapping him all up in the comforter like a caterpillar. The baby giggled as Enjolras put him onto the bed and took a picture.  He sent it to Grantaire with the caption ‘I made a burrito’ before laying down next to René, giving him a snuggle.

            “My Sunshine!” he said, unwrapping the baby and laying down on the bed, René on his chest. Enjolras pushed up his red t-shirt and scratched his back lightly with one hand, the other combing through his curls. When his phone buzzed, he grinned at the picture Grantaire sent: a little cartoon of René in a tortilla with beans and cheese in his hair, and a message that read ‘I made a burrito too. Be home soon.’ Enjolras showed it to René

            “Papa!” he said upon seeing the drawing. 

            “Yes your Papa drew that! He’s on his way home.” The baby pointed out the window.  “Would you like to wait for him on the steps?” he asked.  He stood up, then picked up René and made his way down the stairs an out of the small apartment building.  He sat down on the front stoop with René on his lap.  The baby clapped when Grantaire pulled up on his Vespa. Enjolras stood to meet him, smiling.

            “Hey Apollo. Hey little man!” he said, taking the baby and giving him a hug.  René giggled and put his head on Grantaire’s broad shoulder.

            “How did it go?” Enjolras asked, taking Grantaire’s hand and walking inside.

            “Great. I got the job.” He smiled.

            “I’m so proud of you.” he replied, standing on his toes and giving him a kiss on the jaw—Grantaire’s favorite place for kisses. 

“Yup.  €40 an hour.”

            “Grantaire that’s amazing!”

            “That should please your mom and pop.  Did you finish up the bedroom?”  Enjolras smiled meekly and shook his head.

            “I was busy making Burritos.” He chuckled.  René cooed, validating the fun he and Enjolras had been having.

            “Well let’s finish that up. They ought to be here soon. I’ll put René in the playpen for a bit and I’ll help you.” he smiled, holding the apartment door open for Enjolras, who nodded.

            “You stay there, Sunshine!” Enjolras said, bending down and kissing René’s head as he stood, holding onto the side of the playpen.  Enjolras handed him his favorite stuffed elephant and he sat down, playing with his blocks. Grantaire grinned at Enjolras from around the bedroom door, and Enjolras joined him with a smile, took the comforter off of the bed, and folded it nicely, putting it in the top of the closet. Grantaire retrieved the nicer duvet and placed it on the bed.  Enjolras raised an eyebrow.

            “What are you doing?” he asked.

            “Sitting.” Grantaire replied.

            “Why? We have to make the bed.” He peeked out the door to check on the baby; he played happily in his playpen, and Enjolras returned his attention to Grantaire, who shrugged.  Enjolras approached him, his arms crossed, and Grantaire looked up at him quietly for a moment before taking him around the waist and pulling him down into his lap.  Enjolras startled and laughed as Grantaire kissed his nose, then his cheek, then his chin, then his lips.  The moment Grantaire pulled away, Enjolras pulled him back, kissing him again, more passionately, less playfully.  Grantaire moved down his jaw to his neck, and kissed his collarbones, causing Enjolras to give a sort of yelp of surprise.  Grantaire covered his mouth with his hand and laughed.

            “Shh!” he chuckled, releasing Enjolras’ mouth.  “We don’t want the baby getting any ideas.” He joked, laying Enjolras down on the bed and kissing him again.  Enjolras smiled, his hair splayed out around his head like a curly golden halo, his ponytail loose, wisps hovering around his face.  Grantaire loved it when he looked that way; happy, his cheeks rosy, his hair all a mess.

            “I love you.” he said quietly, sitting up and meeting Grantaire for another light kiss.

            “Love you too, Apollo.” He replied.  They finished making the bed just in time for the knock on the door.

 

—o0o—

 

Grantaire scooped up the baby and opened the door while Enjolras combed his hair. His mother came in first, giving Grantaire a hug and saying hello to the baby.

            “Oh it’s so nice to see you, Grantaire!  How have you been?” she asked, placing her purse and presents for René onto the couch.

            “Wonderful, thanks.” He replied, handing the baby to Emilie, making René a little uneasy. “What about you guys?” he asked.

“We’re wonderful!  Thank you, sweetie!” Emilie replied.  Enjolras hurried out of the bedroom and gave his mother a hug.

            “Hey, mom.” He said, his voice careful and almost nervous.  He offered his father his hand, which he took and shook curtly. “Come on in.  Sit down.” he said, doing his best to smile, but his parents made him uneasy, and he was never quite himself around them.

            “Want anything? Water, lemonade…” Grantaire offered.

            “I’m alright, thank you!” Emilie smiled, sitting with the baby.

            “Do you have a beer?” Claude asked, an edge to his voice.  Grantaire frowned slightly.  Claude knew Grantaire had suffered with alcoholism his entire life, and that he and Enjolras kept none in the house.

            “I don’t. I’m sorry.  Want me to run and get some?” Grantaire offered, doing his best to smile.

            “Yeah.” Claude barked

            “Any particular ty—”

            “Dad.” Enjolras broke in, taking Grantaire’s hand.  “We don’t drink here. If you want a drink, walk to the bar down the street.”

            “It’s okay, I’ll go.” Grantaire said.

            “Yes, Enjolras, let him go.” His father growled.  Emilie sat quietly, as if she didn’t notice the tense atmosphere that had developed.

            “I’ll go.” Enjolras said, his face becoming red, livid.  He looked to Grantaire apologetically.  He knew going to the package store would be hellish for Grantaire, with bad memories and temptations all around him.  Though he hadn’t had a drink in almost four years, the urge was always there, and purchasing alcohol might push him over the edge and into relapse.

            “No.  I came here to see my son.  I want him to go.” Claude barked, standing up, towering over Enjolras.

            “Dad, you _know_ why he can’t do that.” Enjolras hissed. Grantaire busied himself with the baby, sitting down next to Emilie and giving René his stuffed elephant.

            “Remind me, Enjolras.” He growled back.  From the moment he had met Grantaire, Claude was on a mission to get him away from Enjolras. He made it a point to highlight his flaws, and found a sort of sick joy in prompting Enjolras to say Grantaire’s shortcomings aloud.  Enjolras ignored him and took his keys off the hook by the door.  Claude sat down next to his wife as Enjolras left.

            “He looks just like Enjolras, doesn’t he?” Grantaire smiled, moving to the ataman to make room on the sofa. He really just wanted to change the subject, and it’s difficult to be bitter when you’re talking about a baby.

            “He does! Look at his hair, Claude!” Emilie said with a giggle, pulling one of René’s pipe curls and watching it spring back.

            “He looks exactly like Enjolras.” He grunted in reply, taking the baby from his wife and holding him, smiling for the first time since he arrived.  Grantaire snapped a picture.  “Hopefully this one will turn out right.” He added. Grantaire frowned again. He had only ever been kind and polite to Claude, and never made a scene when he said something insensitive, but today he was wearing down his nerves quickly.  He could say whatever he wanted about Grantaire, but as soon as he started commenting on René, something needed to be said.

            “What do you mean?” Grantaire asked as innocently as he could.

            “Well, you see how Enjolras turned out.” Claude replied.

            “Perfect?” Grantaire smiled. Claude sighed heavily.

            “I hope he gets back soon. I haven’t seen him in months!” Emilie cooed, playing with her hair.

            “Yeah. When he gets back we can take a walk or something…” Grantaire suggested, René fussing in Claude’s lap. “You can put him down.” Grantaire said with a smile.  “He can walk all by himself now.”

            “Just because he’s fussy doesn’t mean you should stop holding him.” Claude barked with a shake of the head and a sigh, as if to say ‘didn’t you’re parents teach you anything?’. Grantaire nodded, pursing his lips, but Claude placed the baby on the ground not thirty seconds later. René toddled over to Grantaire, and he picked him up. 

            “Daddy!” he cooed when Enjolras returned, handing his father a six-pack of beer bottles, and giving Grantaire a bottle of root beer, which he usually drank in replacement of actual beer when people were drinking around him.  The glass bottle felt the same way a beer bottle did in his hand, and made things a little easier for him.  Claude twisted the top off of his own bottle and took a long drink, eyeing Grantaire the entire time.

            “Want to go for a walk now?” Grantaire suggested with a smile, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand.

            “That would be wonderful!” Emilie said, standing and taking her husband’s arm.

            “Sure.” Claude said gruffly, finishing off his beer and putting the bottle on the coffee table.

            “I’ll get the stroller.” Enjolras said.  René clapped his hands.

 

—o0o—

 

Enjolras sat René down into his umbrella stroller and opened the folding umbrella to keep the sun off his fair face.

            “Nums” René babbled, reaching up and grabbing with his hands in the air.  Enjolras smiled and handed him a small cup of cheerios.

            “Why are you giving him that?” Claude asked as they walked along the sidewalk on the way to the park down the road.

            “He was hungry.” Enjolras replied.

            “He’s a baby. He doesn’t know what he wants.”

            “He said he was hungry, and now he’s eating cheerios.  What do you not understand?”

            “It’s okay, Enj, talking back to him isn’t going to change anything.” Grantaire said, exposing his cynical core.  Enjolras sighed and nodded, and Claude fumed.

            “Enjolras don’t you let him control you.” Claude said.

            “He is not controlling, Dad.”

            “Daddy.” René cooed, holding up a cheerio for Enjolras.

            “Thank you, Sunshine.” Enjolras said with a small smile, taking the cheerio and holding it, walking next to Grantaire, doing his best to tolerate his parents. Grantaire stuck his tongue out towards Enjolras, and Enjolras placed the cheerio onto his tongue. Grantaire smiled.

            “Enjolras stop it.” Claude barked from where he was walking ahead of the stroller. Enjolras leaned into Grantaire, drained and tired, and Grantaire sighed, doing his best to offer comfort while still pushing the baby.

 

—o0o—

 

After dinner, Grantaire presented René his first birthday cake. He sat at the head of the table on Enjolras’ lap, drumming on the table with his little hands, and Grantaire lit the single candle.

            “Blow it out, baby!” Enjolras prompted as Grantaire demonstrated.  René sneezed and the candle extinguished.  Emilie laughed, and Claude made a disgusted face.

            “Yay! Good job, little man!” Grantaire said, giving René’s golden hair a rub.

 

After eating far too much cake, René fell asleep on Grantaire’s lap and he carried him to bed, leaving Enjolras alone in the living room with his parents. Nobody said a thing for a long while, until Enjolras sighed.

            “Dad, why do you dislike Grantaire so much?  He’s never been anything but polite to you.”

            “He’s changing you, Enjolras. He’s making you lazy.”

            “And exactly how is that happening?  Last I checked, I graduated in the top ten percent of my class from a prestigious school, I have a well paying job as a lawyer, _like you wanted_ , I have my own apartment, I am raising a child who is happy and healthy and has toys and lots of love, and I support myself and my husband successfully.”

            “Alright, you’re not lazy, but he is.” Claude tossed back.

            “Grantaire is most certainly _not_ lazy.” Enjolras growled, using all of his strength of mind not to start shouting.

            “Tell me, Enjolras, what does he do all day?”

            “He works on his illustrations and paintings.”

            “Painting is a hobby, not a career.”

            “He makes almost €1,500 some weeks!”

            “ _some_ weeks, Enjolras.  And tell me what else he does all day while you’re at work.”

            “He takes care of René when I’m in court, he makes dinner for us every night, he might not be the tidiest of people, but he keeps the place clean, he—”

            “Well if he acts as a housewife, why didn’t you marry a woman?!” Claude shouted.  Enjolras felt the blood rush to his face. He couldn’t remember the last time he had been so enraged.

            “Is that what all this is about?” Enjolras asked, his voice no longer rising, but lowering into his truly livid rumble.  You could always tell when Enjolras was truly enraged when his voice no longer rose, but fell. “Do you really resent him that much because he’s gay?”

            “He made you that way! You weren’t like this before! Girls loved you in high school! It wasn’t until you met _him_ that—”

            “I hate to break it to you, dad, but just because a girl likes me doesn’t mean I like them back.”

            “You were prom king!”

            “And I refused to take the stupid crown because I didn’t want to dance with a girl!”

            “That was foolish of you! Plenty of boys would have died to be in your position!”

            “What position?! The center of superficial attention brought on because of vanity?!  Sorry. I didn’t want to be a part of the feigning popularity complex that only exists in high school and has no relevance in the real world.”

            “You were not…like this…before Grantaire.”

            “You can’t even say it, can you! You can’t say ‘gay’! I’m gay, dad!  I’m Gay!  I’m gay and I have been gay my entire life!” he called, extending his arms sarcastically and shouting toward the ceiling.  “And maybe if you paid a little, tiny, minuscule amount of attention to me when I was a kid instead of your damn law firm, you would have figured it out sooner!” he was in tears at this point, but even so, he stared his father directly in the eye.  “And if you don’t like it, you can leave, because I’m sick of you demeaning and degrading Grantaire!”

            “I did no such thing.” Claude rumbled.

            “You asked him for a fucking beer, dad!  You _know_ he is a recovering alcoholic!  It’s like you want him to fail!”

            “I want him away from you!”

            “Why?! He’s the first person in my life who ever made me really, truly happy!  Why do you not want that?” he sighed after a long moment of silence. “I’m going to bed. Goodnight.”  He walked down the hall, running his hand through his hair. For once, his father had nothing to say.

 

The moment Enjolras walked into René’s bedroom, he burst into quiet tears and fell into Grantaire, who sat on their air mattress on the floor.  Grantaire held him and rocked him, kissing his hair and rubbing his back.

            “It’s okay, Enjolras. Don’t worry about it.” He whispered as Enjolras sobbed into his shoulder. 

            “My own father hates me.” Enjolras whispered.  “René will never have a grandfather because he’s never going to come ever again.”

            “He doesn’t hate you, Enjolras. He just doesn’t understand, and when people don’t understand, they get scared.”

            “He’s never going to talk to me again.  I shouldn’t have said that. I shouldn’t have yelled at him.”

            “Enjolras, listen to me. You are perfect, and if your dad can’t see that, it’s his loss, not yours.”

            “I just don’t want him to hate me.  I want to talk with him and spend time with him…”

            “Tell him that.”

            “Grantaire that won’t work.”

            “Aw come on, Enjolras. Now you’re starting to sound like me.” Grantaire said with a smile, which Enjolras meekly returned. “Now go get your jammies on, I think you need a snuggle.”  Enjolras grinned.  
  
  
  
  
  
~What am I doing I have no idea what's going on


	5. Chapter 5

Enjolras didn’t sleep well that night, and got up with René when he fussed at around 4:30. He sat on the couch with the baby, showing him the letters on his wooden blocks corresponding with the letters Cookie Monster was showing him on the screen.  Joly said it was best for babies to have other stimulation while watching television, so Enjolras had taken to finding toys that went along with his favorite little shows. 

            “Which letter is for René?” Enjolras asked quietly, fearful of waking everyone.  René studied the blocks in Enjolras hand before pointing to the letter ‘F, the one next to the ‘R’ block.  “That’s ‘F’.  ‘F’ is for Feuilly.  You’re ‘R’,” he said, handing the block to the baby.  “‘R’ is for René.”  René shoved the block in his mouth and sucked on it.  Enjolras smiled and ran his hand through the baby’s curls, twisting the locks into perfect shiny pipes.

            “Nums.” René babbled. “Daddy num nums.” He repeated.

            “Are you hungry, Sunshine? Come on you can help me.” Enjolras said, lifting the baby and sitting him down into his high chair. “Would you like your oatmeal in the yellow bowl, or the green bowl?” he asked.  René weighed his choices for a moment before pointing to the green bowl. He didn’t know his colors quite yet, but Enjolras was all for starting early, and wanted to expose him to as much as possible.  Everything was about teaching René, unless of course he was with Grantaire, in which everything was about ice cream and new toys.  Grantaire was most certainly the ‘fun’ parent, but that was okay.  He loved both of his parents dearly, and liked spending time with both of them.

            “That’s the green bowl, René.” Enjolras explained, putting the yellow one back into the cabinet. He poured in a bit of his baby oatmeal and heated up water until it was warm—not hot.  He stirred it up and smiled, placing it in front of René on the high chair tray.  “What fruit would you like, René?” Enjolras asked, offering him an apple or a peach from the bowl in the corner.  He quickly pointed to the peach.

            “I thought so. You like peaches, don’t you?” he smiled. Rene slapped his hand against the tray, and Enjolras stopped him gently.  “No, Baby!  Quiet! Mimi and Pepe are sleeping.”

            “Papa?” René cooed as Enjolras sliced up the peach into very small pieces.  There would be no choking on his watch!

            “Yes, René, Papa is still sleeping too.  Can you give me your spoon?” Enjolras asked, sitting on a stool from the counter in front of the high chair, feeding René with a smile.  Few things made Enjolras as happy as spending time alone with René. He loved watching him smile and laugh, and he received the most addictive warm tingle when he was able to comfort him. He wondered if all parents felt this way, or how any parent _couldn’t_ receive the same feelings when they were with their babies.  Enjolras gave René another spoonful of his baby oatmeal, startled when he looked up and saw his father leaning around the refrigerator.   Enjolras lost his sunny demeanor and stiffened.

            “Morning.” He said, looking away and busying himself with feeding the baby.

            “Good morning, Enjolras.” He replied with a defeated sigh.  “I…uh…I wanted to apologize for last night.”  Enjolras looked up in disbelief.  His father didn’t apologize; Enjolras lived his entire life believing that his father was actually incapable of saying the phrase ‘forgive me’, and yet here he was.

            “It’s alright. It was my fault. I flew off the handle. I brought it up.” Enjolras replied, brushing the curls off René’s face before he got oatmeal tangled into it.

            “No.  You were right.  I’ve been…less than accepting of you, and it isn’t right.”

            “It’s not me I’m worried about, Dad…” Enjolras explained.  “Grantaire had a tough night, on account of your little beer stunt.” Claude sighed regretfully.

            “That was inexcusable, and I apologize, though I will not place the blame on you if you choose not to invite me again.” Enjolras looked down for a moment.

            “Removing you from my life won’t fix anything.  René deserves a grandfather, don’t you think?” he smiled, and his father nodded in reply. He opened the refrigerator and took out the remaining bottles of beer, opening them all and dumping them down the sink.

            “Papa!” René cooed as Grantaire entered the kitchen, his eyes tired, his chin in need of a shave. He ran a hand through his mop of dark curls, scratching his bare chest, hardly awake.

            “Hey little man.” Grantaire said with a weak smile to René.  He then leaned down kissed Enjolras relatively roughly, taking his long neck in his hand and pulling him closer.  Enjolras laughed and pulled away reluctantly, turning his head. Grantaire didn’t seem to get the hint and carried on, kissing down his neck and jaw.

            “Grantaire.” Enjolras smiled, pushing him away playfully.

            “Hmm?” he replied, not looking up. 

            “Grantaire!” he said again, laughing and giving him a bit of a shove.

            “What?” he asked, looking up, a bit put off.  His eyes widened when he saw Claude staring at him.  “Oh…Oh! Sorry, I-I-I was just…I’ll…I, um—I’m gonna go put a shirt on…” he babbled, his face turning red as a beet. Claude looked at him, his eyes intense and stony.  Grantaire looked back at him meekly, embarrassed, fear flashing in his eyes as Claude approached him.

            “I’m really sorry, Sir, I didn’t—” he stopped short when Enjolras’ father threw an arm around him, then the other, pulling him into an actual hug.  Enjolras smiled.

            “You’re okay, Grantaire.” Claude grunted.  “And would you just call me Dad, already?” he added with a grin.  Grantaire smiled, slightly confused, but happy.

            “Yeah.” He replied, returning the hug.  “Yeah I will! Thanks…Dad.” He said, hardly able to contain himself.  He honestly wasn’t sure he was awake.

            “You like coffee, Grantaire?” he asked.

            “Yeah…” Grantaire replied.

            “Want to hit that little coffee place on the corner?”

            “Now?”

            “Sure, why not.”

            “All of us?”

            “Just me and you.”

            “I—I—yeah. I mean, if that’s okay, Enj.” He replied, looking to Enjolras, who was washing out the baby’s bowl.

            “Go for it!” he smiled. “Bring me back one of those hot chocolates Eponine makes.”

            “Perfect. Just let me get dressed.” He smiled, hurrying back into René’s room where he had stashed a change of clothes. He pulled on a shirt and a pair of not-too-paint-y jeans, then met Claude back in the kitchen.

            “Ready?” he asked.

            “Yup.” Grantaire replied with a smile.

 

—o0o—

 

            “It occurred to me last night that I really didn’t know much about you.” Claude said, stirring his skim milk into his decaffeinated coffee with exactly three teaspoons of sugar. Grantaire sipped his own mug of black, waiting for Claude to continue.  “Tell me about your family.  I recall your father at your wedding, but he didn’t stay long.  I’m not sure I even spoke to him.”

            “Yeah…My dad isn’t really…that great.  My mom walked out when I was three.”

            “I’m sorry to hear about your mother.  It is distressing to know that someone could leave such a small child.”

            “She didn’t really want me to begin with…I was sort of a drug baby…” he admitted, biting his lip, hoping that wouldn’t trigger Claude to switch back to his usual cold, Grantaire-loathing self.

            “That is a disgrace. I am truly sorry you had to grow up in such a toxic atmosphere.  What of your father?  You lived with him, I imagine.”

            “Yeah. I lived with him, but he, uh…He didn’t really want me around either.”

            “Elaborate, if you don’t mind.” Claude continued. 

            “He, uh...He was a drunk. He beat the shi—I mean, he was…abusive, I guess.”  Grantaire pushed his short sleeve up over his shoulder, revealing the beginning of a burn scar that traveled all the way down his right side.  “He poured boiling water on me when I was five, broke my jaw a few times…” Grantaire shrugged.  “But I lived, I guess.” He smiled meekly. 

“I saw this morning.  I didn’t want to bring it up.”

“It’s alright.  It happened. It’s done.” He shrugged. Claude nodded solemnly, recalling the single time he had hit Enjolras. 

It was Christmas Eve, five years ago, and the family was over for dinner.  Enjolras had gotten into a bit of an argument with his grandfather over the state of the government. His grandfather was running for local office, and Enjolras was questioning his motifs and beliefs. It had become so heated that both of them were near blows, and Enjolras’ father stepped in, backhanding Enjolras across the mouth.  Claude had wept over hitting his son that night, and couldn’t imagine harming a child the way Grantaire’s father had hurt him.

“You are an artist.” Claude said, sipping his coffee.

“Yeah.” Grantaire replied.  “I illustrate children’s books.  I do paintings too, though.  I sell them at galleries around town.”

“Very nice.  Did you paint the picture of Enjolras above the bed?” he asked.  Grantaire blushed.  There was a large painting of Enjolras sleeping on the sofa, nude save for a sheet over his midsection.  It was nearly photo-realistic, and Enjolras loved it, so Grantaire had it framed and hung it up.  He hadn’t thought much of it in quite a while, and was slightly embarrassed that Claude brought it up.

“I, uh…Yeah I did.” He said, slightly nervous.

“It’s very good.”

“Thank you.”

“There are quite a lot of portraits of Enjolras around the house.” Claude noted with a smile, looking down into his coffee with a grin. Grantaire’s blush deepened.

“Yeah, I…I like painting him.”

“He’s a very attractive young man.”

“Yes he is.” Grantaire said quietly, a goofy grin on his face.

“He was a beautiful child.  I should give you pictures.  Emilie would love a portrait.”

“Oh yeah, I’d be happy to.  Anything.”

“Have you painted the baby yet?”  Grantaire nodded and smiled.

“I have a few times.  They’re hanging in his room.  He’s tough because he doesn’t sit still, but his hair is great.  I love it.”

“He looks just like Enjolras.  It really is amazing.”

“Yeah.  Yeah I wanted him to look like Enjolras.  We sort of planned it that way.  The donor mom is blonde too.  We just hoped for the curls.” He smiled.  Claude returned the grin.

“You’re very lucky.  He’s a good little boy.”

“He’s a really good little guy.  He loves everyone, he’s always smiling.”

“That’s like Enjolras, too.  It wasn’t until he got older that he became serious. He and Jean Prouvaire were very similar in temperament until they were about fifteen.  Jean stayed about the same, but Enjolras became very serious. I worried for him, but he seems to have turned out alright.” He smiled.

“I can’t imaging Enjolras being like Jehan now!” Grantaire laughed. “Jehan is so sweet and quiet! Enjolras is really…really not!” Claude laughed, finishing his coffee.  Grantaire fished out his wallet. 

“I’ve got it, Grantaire.” Claude insisted.

“Are you sure?  It’s no big deal, I sold three paintings this week.” Grantaire smiled.

“Take Enjolras out for dinner.” He smiled.

“Thanks.” Eponine walked over to the table, taking their empty mugs.

“You guys all set?” she asked, giving Grantaire a funny look, glancing toward Claude.  Grantaire smiled.

“Yup!  Thanks, Ponine—Oh wait! Enjolras wants a hot chocolate.”

“Kay.”

“How much will that be?” Claude asked.

“It’s free for Enjolras.” She smiled.  Claude didn’t question and left the cash on the table, leaving Eponine a hefty tip.  Grantaire’s phone buzzed.

 

Ponine>6:14 – who’s the old guy?

Me>6:15 – Enj’s dad

Ponine>6:15 – thought he hated ur guts

Me>6:15 – same haha

            “If you don’t mind me asking, Grantaire, is there a reason Enjolras gets free hot chocolate?” Claude asked as they walked home.  Grantaire smiled.

            “Yeah. Enjolras and I went there on our first date.  It was when he was, like, sick, you know?  So I ordered him a hot chocolate and he drank it and it really set him off…He made himself sick and our waitress, Eponine, she’s a friend of mine, and she felt bad. When he was in the hospital she brought by a little gift card for him for free hot chocolate forever. She also sort of likes him, I think.”

            “That was kind of her. She seems like a nice girl.”

            “She is. She’s really nice.”

They were quiet for a long while after that, and Claude only broke the silence as Grantaire held the apartment door for him.

“Grantaire.” He said gruffly, as was his way.

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry.  I rarely say this, but I really was wrong about you.  You’re…you’re a good match for Enjolras.” Grantaire smiled.

“Thanks.  That…That really means a lot to me.” He replied, following Claude inside.

“You’re a nice young man.  I only hope you can forgive me.”

“Already have.” Grantaire smiled.  René toddled over and met them at the door.

“Papa!” he cooed. 

“Hey, Sunshine!” Grantaire said, picking him up and spinning him around.  René giggled.

“René, where’s Pepe?” Enjolras asked.  René pointed to Claude, and Enjolras and his mother applauded.

“Great job, little man!” Grantaire said, handing the baby to Claude.

“You’re a lucky little boy, René.  It’s hard to find two people who have as much love as your Papa and Daddy.”

“No!”  René shouted agreeably.

 

 

~Yay resolved daddy problems!


	6. Chapter 6

“Grantaire! René no!” Enjolras shouted, running hunched over after the toddler as he darted down the hallway, stark naked and giggling.

            “No bath!” the baby chortled as he ran, hiding behind his bed.  Grantaire reached back and picked him up.  René kicked and writhed

            “It’s okay, René! Nothing bad is happening to you!” Grantaire tried to reason.  He was covered in paint, and was marking the baby with bright green handprints.

            “No!” he wailed, wiggling as Grantaire forced him into the bathtub.  René shrieked, tears running down his face. He splashed Enjolras in the face.

            “René Jehan, I have had enough!” Enjolras barked sternly.  He rarely shouted at the baby, but Enjolras was a firm believer in discipline and order, and sometimes a child needs to be put in his place. “Now you sit nicely and let me give you a bath, or you’ll have Elephant taken away.” He threatened. René loved his stuffed elephant, and baring him from it was his usual punishment.  He listened, sitting nicely in the warm water.

            “Thank you for listening.” Enjolras said with a kind smile after a moment, pouring a capful of baby soap into the tub, letting it bubble up until it nearly covered René. He giggled.

            “See! Bath time isn’t so bad!” Grantaire grinned from the doorway, still covered in paint.

            “Papa needs a bath, too.” René said. 

            “Your right. He does.” Enjolras agreed, looking over his shoulder at Grantaire and giving him a bit of a smirk. Grantaire stepped up behind Enjolras and ran his paint-covered hands through Enjolras’ perfect golden curls, streaking them green and brown.  Enjolras gasped, his mouth hanging open, and René laughed so hard he could hardly sit up.

            “Daddy needs a bath too!” he chuckled, his freckly cheeks turning a lovely shade of peachy pink. Enjolras sighed.

            “I guess so.” he agreed with a smile.

 

—o0o—

 

After his bath, Enjolras let René watch cartoons while he and Grantaire made dinner. Seeing as it was Friday night, Enjolras and Grantaire took the night off from actually cooking, and instead threw frozen steamed peas in the microwave and frozen dinosaur chicken nuggets into the oven.  Enjolras swore they were René’s favorite, but Grantaire—and the rest of their friends, for that matter—knew that Enjolras absolutely loved frozen chicken nuggets. They were one of his favorite things, and having René was just an excuse to have them more often, but if you mentioned it, you would get a catsup-covered triceratops to the face.

            Grantaire lifted René into his booster seat at the table before sitting down across from Enjolras.

            “Tell me what you and Papa did today, René.” Enjolras said, stabbing at his peas with his fork.

            “We went to see ducks.” He explained, eating his peas with his fingers.  At three, René wasn’t quite impressed with a fork, and much preferred his hands.

            “You saw the ducks in the pond? Where the little baby ones still there?” he asked with a smile.  René nodded, sucking on his fingers as he popped peas into his little mouth.

            “Mm hm, and a turtle.”

            “How exciting!” Enjolras grinned.

            “Papa poked it and it went....” He continued, opening his mouth wide, then snapping his teeth shut, demonstrating. Grantaire laughed.

            “Wow! Was it scary?”

            “No.” He explained. “I want it to eat Papa.”

            “Hey!” Grantaire said in mock-anger.  René laughed, dropping his chicken nugget into his catsup.

            “You can’t let the turtle eat Papa!  That would make Daddy sad, René!” Enjolras said.

            “I will save Papa.”

            “My hero!” Grantaire said, batting his eyelashes and eating his peas.  René giggled.

            “Daddy has green.” René noted, rubbing at his hair, meaning the paint Enjolras still had tangled in his curls.

            “Yes, I know. I have to take a shower after Papa and I put you to bed.

            “No bed.”

            “What if we watch a video first?” Grantaire suggested.

            “Pop?” René asked.

            “We can make popcorn.” Enjolras agreed with a smile, mopping up the last of Grantaire’s catsup with a dinosaur—he finished his own catsup puddle already.

            “What would you like to watch, René?” Enjolras asked.

            “I like Notre Dame.” He said.

            “You want to watch the Hunchback of Notre Dame?” Enjolras asked, making sure he understood correctly. It was important to René that the people around him understood what he wanted, and if they assumed he wanted something other than what he meant, he became frustrated.  Enjolras always made sure he understood what René wanted; Grantaire didn’t.

            “Mm hm.” René validated, finishing his last dinosaur.

            “You’re rubbing off on him, Enjolras.” Grantaire said with a chuckle.

            “What? Victor Hugo is an esteemed author and poet.  There is nothing wrong with introducing our child to the great literary masters.” He explained, standing and washing the dishes.

            “I feel like watching that one Bahorel sent you, Enj.”

            “The ocean one, with the fish?” Enjolras asked.

            “Yeah. With the cool glow in the dark ones.”

            “Yes fish!” René concurred.

            “Alright, fish it is. I’ll make popcorn. René, would you get your snuggle blanket and your pillow from your room?”  René climbed down from his chair and scurried off to his room as Grantaire pulled the DVD out of the cabinet below the TV.  Enjolras took the container of popcorn kernels and poured them into a pot on the stove.  René returned a moment later, dragging his blanket and pillows behind him, stopping in the middle of the den, spreading out his blanket between the sofa, loveseat, and armchair, making a sort of nest.  Grantaire headed into his and Enjolras’ bedroom and got even more pillows, completing the cozy atmosphere.  He sat down on the blanket and leaned back against a pillow propped up against the front of the sofa. He put his hands behind his head and sighed.  René crawled over beside him and snuggled up under his arm.

            “Cozy?” he asked.

            “Mm hm.” René replied, leaning against Grantaire as the show began: an episode of Blue Planet titled ‘The Deep’.  Bahorel sent them the entire series on DVD when René was an infant because of the soothing music and blissful underwater scenes, and he still loved watching them three years later. 

            Grantaire slipped his hand down René’s t shirt and scratched his back gently, and René pushed up Grantaire’s shirt and scratched his belly.  He laughed.

            “What are you doing, buddy?” Grantaire asked.

            “Belly.” He replied simply.

            “Where’s your belly?” he asked. René pulled up his little shirt, looked at himself, then smiled up at Grantaire.  “You found it!” he congratulated.

            “You have a big belly.” He said honestly, seriously.

            “Thanks?” Grantaire replied. Enjolras laughed from the kitchen. “What about Daddy? Does he have a big belly?”

            “No.” René replied. Enjolras laughed again, harder.

            “René, Papa doesn’t have a big belly!” he said.

            “Sure I do.” Grantaire said. “I’ve got some squishiness going on. But it’s cool. It’s okay to be squishy.” He said, poking René’s belly, tickling under his ribs.  The baby laughed and rolled into Grantaire. Enjolras smiled.

            After recovering from anorexia, Enjolras vowed he would never focus any attention on weight or looks ever again.  He never wanted René to feel that he was fat or ugly or of little worth, and he was proud of Grantaire for reinforcing those values.  It _was_ okay to be ‘squishy’. It was _more than_ okay to be squishy.  Yes, Grantaire was stocky, but he was healthy, and he was happy, and that’s what was important, not how big his love handles were or how far his tummy overlapped his waistband. 

            When the popcorn was finished, Enjolras hunkered down on the other side of René, combing his hand through the baby’s feathery curls.  Before the popcorn was gone, René was asleep, his head on Grantaire’s chest.

            “Bath time.” Grantaire whispered to Enjolras with a smirk.  Enjolras smiled in return.

 

—o0o—

 

            “We haven’t done this in so long.” Enjolras said with a smile as Grantaire slipped into the bathtub behind him, sighing contentedly in the hot water.

            “I know.” Grantaire replied, taking Enjolras’ shoulders and leaning him back so his golden curls rested against his chest.  Enjolras closed his eyes.

            “This is so nice…”

            “We used to do this all the time, remember?”

            “Yes…”

            “What’s wrong?” Grantaire asked, running a bar of soap up and down Enjolras’ back.

            “Nothing. You’re lovely.”

            “I love it when you leave your hair down like this.”

            “It’s all wet and messy!”

            “I love it.”

            “I love you.”

            “I love you too.”

            “I got nervous before…” Enjolras admitted, taking Grantaire’s hand and pressing it to his cheek. “When René said…”

            “That I have a big tummy?” Grantaire finished his thought.  Enjolras nodded, keeping Grantaire’s hand pressed to his cheek.  “I know you did.  That’s why I laughed it off.  It’s no big deal. He’s so little, he doesn’t even understand yet.”

            “He will soon…I don’t want him to ever think how I did.”

            “He won’t. I’m sorta chub. He knows it’s okay to have a little squishy business.” Grantaire explained with a smile.  Enjolras turned around to face Grantaire and ran his hand down his chest, down to his middle and around to his lower back.

            “I love your chub.” Enjolras said with a soft smile. 

            “I love your freckles.” He replied.

            “I love your nose.”

            “I love those dimples you have in your back.”

            “I love your everything.”

            “I love your everything too.” Grantaire smiled, washing Enjolras’ hair slowly and soothingly, massaging his head, coating every one of his golden strands with bubbly foam before guiding his head back and rinsing out the shampoo.  Once he was finished, Grantaire slipped out of the tub and wrapped a towel around his waist, shaking one out for Enjolras and holding it open for him, wrapping him up in it when he stood up.

            “I forgot to get pajamas.” Enjolras said, snuggling up in his towel, scratching at his ankle with his opposite foot.

            “I’ve got it.” Grantaire said with a smile.  Enjolras grinned thankfully; glad he didn’t have to leave the warmth of the steamy bathroom.

            Grantaire returned a moment later with a pair of pajama bottoms and an oversize t shirt for Enjolras, and a pair of boxer shorts and a shirt for himself.

            “Undies?” Enjolras asked.

            “Oh don’t worry they’re there.” Grantaire said, hugging Enjolras as he snuggled in his towel.

            “Thanks Lovey.”

            “Anything for my Apollo.” He grinned.

            “What’s that face for?” Enjolras asked, quirking an eyebrow, suspicious.  Grantaire shrugged and shook his head.

            “Nothing.” He said. “You’re just…pretty, is all.” Enjolras smiled and pulled on his shirt and pajama bottoms.  Grantaire placed his hand gently on Enjolras’ hip and pulled him in for a soft, slow kiss, which he returned willingly, draping his arms around his neck, over his muscular shoulders.

            “Should we move this to the bedroom?” Enjolras asked, nuzzling Grantaire’s ear.

            “Yes.” Grantaire whispered in reply, making Enjolras smile.  Grantaire picked up Enjolras and carried him into the bedroom, placing him down onto the bed and leaning over him, kissing his jaw and running his hand through his golden hair, still damp from the bath.  Enjolras gave a contented hum, combing his fingers through Grantaire’s inky curls. He continued trailing kisses down Enjolras’ neck, making him smile, until he stopped suddenly, looking up as the bed dipped under newfound weight.

            “Daddy!” René shouted, sobbing and burying his face into Enjolras.  Grantaire rubbed the baby’s back soothingly as Enjolras held him.

            “What’s wrong, Sunshine?” he asked, pushing René’s sweaty blonde curls off of his forehead.

            “There was a bad dream!” he sobbed, coughing and dizzy, beside himself.

            “Oh baby it’s alright.” Enjolras assured him, kissing his hair.

            “Yeah buddy. It was just a dream. You’re nice and safe. Papa and Daddy have you.”

            “I don’t want to go in my crib-y again!  I scared, Papa!” he wailed, flopping against Grantaire’s chest.  He looked to Enjolras and smiled, silently asking if René could stay. Enjolras pulled down the covers and scooped up René, placing him between himself and Grantaire.

            “Well I guess you’ll have to stay with us tonight, then.” Grantaire said, tucking him in. René smiled, wiping his nose with his hand.

            “Elephant.” He said, holding up his stuffed animal to Enjolras, who kissed its trunk.

            “Elephant can stay too.” Enjolras said, laying down.  Grantaire followed suit.

            “Play!” René cooed.

            “No baby. Snuggle time.  Lay down, okay?” Enjolras prompted, pulling René close and holding him.

            “Mm hm.” René agreed, rolling over so he was facing Enjolras.  He nestled his face against his night shirt, and Grantaire smiled, scooting closer to the two of them and scratching René’s back until he fell asleep.

            “So much for tonight.” Enjolras whispered after a moment.

            “I don’t know…This might be better.” Grantaire replied.  Enjolras smiled.

 

 

 

~I really like this one...what do you think?


	7. Chapter 7

It was only about 8:30 when Enjolras and Grantaire came back from dinner, but already Feuilly was asleep on the sofa, leaving Jehan alone with René. He didn’t seem to mind.

            “Oh, back so soon?” Jehan asked, standing up from where he was playing with René on the carpet.

            “We’ve been gone nearly four hours, Jehan.” Grantaire smiled.

            “We were having so much fun, weren’t we, René Jehan?” Jehan asked the baby.  He always called René by his full name.  René looked up from his puzzle and nodded with a big smile. He stood up when Enjolras crouched down and ran into his daddy’s outstretched arms.

            “I missed you so much, Sunshine!” Enjolras cooed, holding René’s head to his shoulder, his fingers tangled in his curls.

            “I missed you too Daddy.” He said with a smile.  Enjolras released him and puckered his lips at René, who gave him a peck on the cheek. Enjolras grinned.

            “My little charmer.” He said. Jehan laughed.

            “Just like your daddy!” Jehan said, looking to Enjolras.  Feuilly finally opened his eyes.

            “Oh hey guys.” He said, sitting up.  “I’m the best babysitter.” Grantaire laughed.

            “It’s cool Jehan’s got it covered.” Feuilly nodded.

            “Yeah he likes the little guys…” Feuilly said, leaning back and closing his eyes again. “I like little naps.”

            “Uncle Fuill-yyy!” René squealed, running to Feuilly and jumping up onto his lap.  Feuilly caught him and snuggled him.

            “Hey little guy.” He said with a sleepy smile.

            “Hi.” René replied.

            “Come on, Sunshine, bedtime.” Grantaire said, picking up the bag of René’s things they had left with Jehan and Feuilly. 

            “No.” René cooed, his watery eyes threatening to overflow. 

            “Don’t you want to go home and have snuggle time?” Enjolras asked.  Every night before bed, Enjolras and Grantaire piled into René’s ‘big boy’ bed and read him exactly two books and sang him one song, which was usually enough to put him to sleep.  René loved being read to, and the promise of a story made bedtime bearable for him.

            “No.  I stay here.” He said, sitting on Feuilly’s knee as Feuilly bounced him.

            “Oh baby, Uncle Feuilly and Jehan have work tomorrow.”

            “You have work.” He tossed back at Enjolras.

            “I took the day off, remember? We’re going to the museum, but I can’t take you if you stay here!” Enjolras explained, crouching down beside René and taking his little hands as he sat on Feuilly’s lap.

            “Uncle Feuilly too?” he asked. Feuilly chuckled.

            “Nah, little guy, I have to work.”  René looked down sadly.  

            “I stay here.” He repeated.

            “Come on, René. We’ll go home and get some chocolate milk and read a book, and it’ll be great, okay?” Grantaire said with a smile, picking up René under the arms and giving him a hug.

            “Milky?” he asked with a grin.

            “Yup. Chocolate milk. Sound good?”  René nodded.

            “Mm hm! I want Uncle Jehan to come. And Feuilly.”

            “Oh baby we have to stay here!” Jehan said, standing on his toes and giving René a loving little tap on the nose.  “Though I would love some strawberry milk.” He said, turning and giving Feuilly a meek smile.

            “I’ll make it!” he called, peeling himself up off the sofa and heading into the kitchen. “Bye, René.  See you later.” He said as he left.

            “Byebye!” René cooed, waving after him.

            “Go home and have a story with your daddies!” Jehan said with a smile.

            “story.” René said, leaning into Grantaire’s chest.

            “Come back soon, Lovely! We love having you over!” Jehan added, walking them to the door, holding it open and waving as they left. René waved from his car seat in the back, and Jehan smiled.

 

—o0o—

 

“You had fun with Uncle Feuilly and Jehan, huh?” Grantaire asked, sitting down beside René in bed, his golden hair wet from his bath.  Enjolras smiled, grabbing a stack of books for René to pick from before sitting on the bed himself.

            “Yes we did a puzzle. And videos and crayons.” He explained. Grantaire chuckled.

            “What was on your puzzle, René?” Enjolras asked.

            “Birds.” He explained his eyes growing heavy.

            “And what did you draw with your crayons?”

            “I maked a turtle and Uncle Jehan maked a duck and flowers.  Uncle Feuilly did a dog.”

            “Very nice. Sounds like you had fun.” Grantaire said with a grin.

            “And we watched Pooh!”

            “That’s Jehan’s favorite.” Enjolras said with a smile.

            “Mm hm.” René nodded, leaning back onto his pillow, his sheets covered in stars, all of them with happy, smiling faces.  Grantaire’s father had given them to René for his third birthday.  Even though he wasn’t the best father to Grantaire, he did love René, and made every effort to be a good grandpa.

            “Which books would you like to read tonight, Baby?” Enjolras asked, spreading the multitude of picture books out across the bedspread.

            “Happy.” He said, pointing to his favorite book, ‘Tell me Something Happy before I go to Sleep’. “And this one.” He added, pointing to another favorite book called ‘Are You my Mother?’.

            “I like that one.” Grantaire smiled.  The illustrations were simple, but eloquent and witty, and he quite enjoyed them.

            “Alright, let’s get started, then.  It’s _wayyy_ past your bedtime, René Jehan!” Enjolras said. René giggled.

            “Tell me something happy before I go to sleep…” he began…

 

René was usually at least somewhat drowsy by the end of the first book, but he was wide awake when Enjolras started ‘Are You my Mother?’. 

            “Can we do _three_ books tonight?” he asked.

            “Aren’t you sleepy, Sunshine?” Enjolras inquired.  René shook his head.  “Well let’s see how you’re feeling after this book.” He said with a smile.

            “Okay.” René agreed, snuggling up against Grantaire, who laid beside him on the bed.

            “A mother bird sat on her egg. The egg jumped! ‘I must get something for my baby bird to eat!’ she said.  So away she went. Inside the nest, the egg jumped!” Enjolras exclaimed, looking to René.  Enjolras was always terribly animated while reading children’s books, and Grantaire loved it.

            “It jumped and jumped and jumped!  Until…out came a baby bird! ‘Where is my mother?’ he said. He did not see her anywh—”

            “Where is my mother?” René asked, his eyes wide, looking up at Enjolras.

            “Oh…Oh baby you have me and Papa.” He said with a smile, hoping to avoid the conversation for the moment. It was late.  He wanted to go to bed.

            “But where’s my _mother_?” he asked again.  Grantaire sat up and pulled him into his lap.

            “Well,” he said, seeing the worry in Enjolras’ eyes. “We’re not really sure, buddy.  But that’s okay, because you’ve got us, and we really love you.” he kissed René’s hair.

            “But how come we can’t find her?”

            “We don’t know who she is, Baby…I’m sorry.” Enjolras tried to explain, running his hand up and down René’s back as he sat in Grantaire’s lap, his eyes shining with curiosity.

            “You came out of Ms. Abigail’s belly.” Grantaire explained.  “You remember Ms. Abigail.  She gave you your blankie.”  He handed René his fluffy blue blanket.

            “Is she my mommy?” he asked.

            “No…Um…” he looked to Enjolras for help.

            “You need a mommy part and a daddy part to make a baby, René.” He said after thinking for a moment. “We borrowed a mommy part from a very nice lady from America, and then we added the daddy part from me, but we don’t know who the mommy part came from…She just let us have a part of her so that we could make you.  Do you understand?”

            “You took a mommy part but now…I don’t know the mommy part.” He paraphrased.

            “Yes. That is exactly right, René. You’re my smart little Sunshine.” Enjolras said with a smile. 

            “But can we find her?” he asked.

            “No, Baby, we can’t. I’m sorry.” Enjolras said, combing his hand through René’s hair and tucking him back under his covers.

            “But we love you so much. Me and your daddy love you enough for a million mommies!” Grantaire said, extending his arms for dramatic effect. “You don’t need a mommy. You’ve got us! That’s okay, right?” René smiled.

            “Yes!” he cooed.

            “Good! Ready to go to sleep now?” he asked.

            “Can you sleep here Papa?” he asked.

            “Sure I can. Just tonight, though, right?” he clarified. Grantaire knew Enjolras didn’t like the idea of sharing a bed with René.  Independence was good for a child, and he didn’t think it was healthy for a child to sleep with their parents every night.  Grantaire really couldn’t care less, but he didn’t want to upset Enjolras.

            “I guess I get the bed all to myself then!” Enjolras said, looking to Grantaire, who gave him a wink, silently telling him he’d be joining him in a little while.

            “Night night Daddy!” René said sleepily, snuggling up against Grantaire.

            “Goodnight, René. Goodnight Papa.” He replied, leaning down and kissing René on the forehead, then moving to Grantaire, giving him a peck on the lip.  “I love you.”

            “I love you too!” René piped, his eyes closing.

 

—o0o—

 

A few minutes later, Grantaire joined Enjolras in bed.  He closed his book and smiled up at Grantaire as he slipped under the comforter.

            “Wasn’t expecting that conversation tonight…” he said with a grin.

            “Me neither…I wasn’t expecting that conversation for a few more years…”

            “He’s okay, though. We talked about it again, after you came back here.  He said he was sure his mommy was a fairy or a princess or something.”

            “And what did you say?” Enjolras asked with a grin, leaning into Grantaire’s shoulder.

            “I told him that maybe she was and that we really didn’t know.  He was sort of happy about that.  He made up a bunch of stories about what his mommy might be doing.”

            “I’m glad he’s not upset…” Enjolras said, hunkering down under the blankets.

            “Me too. He seems to understand pretty well…”

            “He’s a smart little boy. He’ll be alright.” Enjolras smiled, closing his eyes.  Grantaire followed suit.


	8. Chapter 8

Enjolras turned around from the sink when he heard the thump, but the damage had already been done.  René sat on the floor between the sofa and the coffee table, clutching his arm in his hand and screaming. Enjolras ran to his side and held him, inspecting his arm.  His wrist was crooked, and Enjolras nearly gagged looking at it.

            “Oh Baby what happened?” he asked, lifting him up and walking him briskly down the stairs, out to the car. René continued screaming, his face turning a terrible shade of purple.

            “I know, baby, I know! We have to go to uncle Combeferre.”

            “Nooo! No doctor!” he wailed, still screaming. Enjolras sighed, stepping on the gas. He wished Grantaire was there. He had gone out to a show for illustrators so that potential clients could compare artists and would be gone for the rest of the weekend.  Enjolras was all alone with René, and was now driving to the hospital alone. So much for a quiet Saturday at home.

 

Enjolras pulled into the hospital parking lot and ran René, still screaming, inside. He went up to the check in counter.

            “Oh no! What happened?” the woman asked.

            “I’m almost positive his arm is broken, please just let us back he’s obviously in pain.” He explained, his inner lawyer surfacing.  He needed to reach an end result quickly, and he needed to convince someone he was correct. He didn’t realize it, but obvious breaks—along with head injuries—usually get to see a doctor immediately.

            “Yup go right on back.”

            “Do you know if Combeferre is on call?” he asked.

            “He should be back there!” she replied with a smile.  Enjolras smiled meekly.

            “Thanks.” A nurse walked him back into one of the offices, and Combeferre came in a moment later.

            “Oh!  Oh hey!  What are you doing here?” he asked as René sobbed in Enjolras’ lap.

            “Broken arm, I think.” He said, sitting René down on the examination table.  He would not let go of his arm, holding it against his chest with his little hand, completely beside himself, his cheeks raw from crying.

            “Oh no! May I see, René?” he asked, taking the baby’s wrist and trying to pry away his hand.

            “No!” he shouted in reply, jerking away.

            “René Uncle Combeferre is going to make you feel better.  Let him look, Baby, I know it hurts.” Enjolras said, sitting next to him on the examination table and prying apart his arms, making room for Combeferre to inspect the injury. 

            “Well, we’re going to need to take an x-ray…Is that okay?” he asked Enjolras.

            “Whatever you need to do.” He replied.

 

—o0o—

 

After nearly three hours in the hospital, René was finally allowed home. He was asleep when Enjolras carried him back inside, in a full arm cast all the way to the center of his upper arm. He had chosen a pale blue color for the cast, and Combeferre had signed it already near the top. Though he was no longer crying, he had complained of pain all the way home, and Enjolras felt terribly for him. He had broken his leg once, when he was younger, and knew how excruciating it was.  But now he was asleep, his arm bent awkwardly over Enjolras’ shoulder, drooling slightly on his daddy’s shirt.  Enjolras carried him inside and placed him down on the sofa before running to get the phone, scared René might roll off in his sleep and hurt himself again.  The moment he returned to René’s side, he dialed Grantaire.

            “Hey Apollo.” He answered almost immediately.  “I’m sorta busy can you make it fast?”

            “Yeah, uh, René broke his arm.”

            “Wait what?”

            “René broke his arm we just got back from the ER.  Combeferre patched him up, he’s asleep now.”

            “Oh my God what happened?”

            “I was getting myself a glass of water at the sink and when I was turned around, he tried to jump from the couch to the coffee table.”

            “Uh that stinks…I’ll come home now.”

            “No Grantaire stay there. It’s okay!” Enjolras replied. “We’re alright.”

            “Are you sure? It’s only Friday night, Enj…I was supposed to be here all weekend…”

            “I know. It’s okay. Stay. I can take care of it.” He smiled meekly, though he knew Grantaire couldn’t see, trying to convince himself. Would he be okay? Could he handle it on his own? He had never been without Grantaire for more than an overnight before, and now René was hurt…

            “Okay…But call me if you need and I’ll catch the next train home, alright?”

            “Alright. Thanks Lovey.” He said.

            “Love you, Apollo.”

            “Love you too.” He hung up the phone and sighed heavily.  René stirred.

            “Daddy I hungry.” He said lazily, doing his best to sit up by himself.  He couldn’t, and shortly became frustrated.  Enjolras helped him. 

            “Okay baby what would you like?” he asked.  René sniffled.

            “Cheesy.” He said.

            “Grilled cheese?” Enjolras asked.  He knew what René meant, but he liked to check to be sure.

            “Mm hm.” He replied, leaning against his daddy, scratching at the texture on his cast.

            “Okay. You sit right here, alright? Would you like to watch a video?” he asked.

            “Mm hm…But it’s not video time.” He said after a moment as Enjolras stood up.  Enjolras and Grantaire had agreed on only an hour of TV a day for René, with the exception of movies that were over an hour long. René had already watched his hour of cartoons that morning, and was therefore breaking a rule by watching TV again.

            “Oh that’s okay, Sunshine. You hurt your arm. You can have a treat.” He smiled back at René, putting in _the Hunchback of Notre Dame_ , his favorite, and then headed into the kitchen to make René and himself a grilled cheese.  He placed a slice of ham and a sliver of tomato on each one, flipping them over and looking over his shoulder at René.

            “The fire, dark fire, the fire in my skin, the burning la, la, la, is burning me to sing…” he mumbled along, filling in the words he didn’t know with ‘la’s and humming, missing some of the words.  Enjolras smiled. René always sang along with movies and shows. Enjolras presented him with his grilled cheese, cut into squares with a puddle of catsup in the middle. Enjolras sat down next to him on the sofa with his own sandwich and a smile.

            “Did I miss ‘Out There’?” he asked.  That was his favorite number.

            “Mm hm. Sorry.” René said, eating his sandwich, the plate in his lap, eating with his good arm.

            “Aw man!” Enjolras replied. “That’s my favorite song!” René giggled.

            “Is Papa coming?” he asked.

            “I’m sorry, Sunshine, Papa is at work this weekend.”

            “Oh.” He took another bite of his sandwich, clearly sleepy.  He had fallen at about 5:00, and it was now after ten.  René was usually in bed and asleep by 8:00. He leaned his head against Enjolras’ arm, his golden curls indistinguishable from Enjolras’ own ponytail; it was impossible to tell when Enjolras’ curls ended and the René’s began.

            Enjolras took René’s paper plate off of his lap when he saw him nodding off, and placed a pillow on his lap so René could lay down.  He put his head on his daddy’s lap. 

            “Does your arm hurt, Baby?” he asked, scratching his back lightly, how Grantaire always did.

            “No.” he replied simply and quietly, his eyelids heavy as he watched his movie. 

            “René would you like to go to bed?”

            “Can you sleep with me?” he asked.  Enjolras smiled.

            “Sure.” He replied with a smile.  “Want to sleep in my bed?” he asked.  Enjolras was usually very strict about bedtime, and it was a rare occasion he allowed René to sleep with him or Grantaire, and even less common to allowed him to sleep in their bed, but since Grantaire wasn’t home, and René broke his arm, Enjolras decided he deserved a treat.

            “I can?” René cooed, excited.

            “Sure you can.” He replied, picking up René and carrying him to bed.  Roux followed shortly, snuggling up against René as he lay next to Enjolras.

            “Night night, Daddy.” He cooed. “Night night kitty cat.”

            “Goodnight, René.” Enjolras replied, flipping off the lamp.

 

—o0o—

 

“Papa do it!” René shouted as Enjolras attempted to get him into the bathtub, his cast wrapped up in a plastic trash bag to keep it dry.

            “René Papa is away.” He tried to explain.

            “Papa does bathtime!” René cried, wiping his tears with the back of his hand as Enjolras knelt beside the tub, testing the water before helping René step over the side.

            “I’m sorry, René…What does Papa do at bathtime?” he asked, missing Grantaire himself. Though René loved Enjolras with all his little heart, sometimes he just needed to be a silly little boy and play wrestle on the floor or run a remote control car into the furniture. Enjolras was more of a ‘sit down and color’ sort of person, which was lovely, but grew boring to René. He missed his Papa terribly, and now his arm was immobilized.  He wasn’t having a very good weekend.

            “Um…Boats.” He said after thinking for a moment, handing Enjolras one of his toy boats from the side of the tub.

            “Okay. We can play boats. Want to race them?” Enjolras asked.

            “No they crash!” René explained, jamming his own little boat into Enjolras’ wrist.

            “Ow!  René that isn’t nice.” He said, wetting the baby’s curly hair with a washcloth before lathering the baby soap through it.

            “But Papa likes to crash boats.” René replied sadly.

            “Why don’t we play with this…” he said with a mischievous sort of smile René was unfamiliar with. Enjolras wasn’t usually the ‘fun’ parent, but he had an idea.  He took the can of shaving cream off of the counter and sprayed a stack of it into René’s hand.  He poked it.

            “It’s like jelly.” He said with a smile.

            “Rub your hands together.” Enjolras grinned.  René did, and was incredibly pleased when the gel turned to foam.  He clapped his hands, laughing.  Enjolras whipped some foam up in his own hand and gave René a goatee with it, then sprayed the can all over his shiny curls and turned them white with bubbles. René was giggling like crazy, taking his own handful of foam and slapping it to Enjolras’ face, giving him a beard and moustache not unlike Grantaire’s winter scruff, but in white instead of black.  Enjolras laughed and leaned in next to René, snapping a picture of the two of them and sending it to Grantaire.

            “Did it go to Papa?” René asked, wiping his face with his hand.

            “Yup!” Enjolras replied, scooping René up and wrapping him in a towel, drying him off after wiping off his own moustache. 

            “Can I wear the flower PJs?” he asked as Enjolras opened the bathroom closet, where they kept all of their pajamas.

            “Sure.” He said, taking out René’s long cotton pajama bottoms—the ones decorated with flowers of every shape and size, all of them a lovely shade of blue. Jehan gave them to René for no particular reason.  Jehan was officially René’s Godfather, and Eponine was his Godmother. Enjolras’ own mother said it would be a nice idea to name a Godfather and mother, to carry on a tradition. It made Jehan very happy, and he made it his mission to spoil René nearly rotten.  He was always bringing by little wrapped presents and flowers and numerous other little things, just to see René smile.  The Pajama bottoms were a hit, and René was always wearing them.

            “Can we play fight?” René asked, jumping up and down on his toes, very similar to Jehan, in fact.

            “Oh Baby I’m not too good at play fighting…How about we read a book?”       “No…just bedtime…” he said sadly.

            “Alright…” Enjolras said, feeling a bit badly.  He didn’t mean to upset René…he just wasn’t Grantaire. 

            He took René’s hand and walked him to bed, tucking him in under his covers and kissing his curls.

            “Is Papa coming home tomorrow?” he asked.  Enjolras nodded with a smile.

            “He’ll be home tomorrow around bedtime.  You can play boats with him!”

            “And crash it?” René asked, bouncing in his bed. 

            “And crash it!” Enjolras said, poking René’s belly, tickling him.  He giggled.  “And you can play fight and make fart noises and have Papa snuggle time and watch silly movies!”

            “Yes!” René agreed, giggling.

            “I love you, Sunshine.”

            “I love you too, Daddy.”

            “And Papa loves you too.”

            “And I love Papa.” Enjolras smiled.

            “I love Papa too.”

 

—o0o—

 

At that very moment, Grantaire was laying in his hotel room, the sheets scratchy and unfamiliar, the pillow flat.  He missed Enjolras’ smell, his golden hair splayed across the sheets, holding him, kissing him. He missed René and his little laugh. He felt terrible about leaving him, especially with a broken arm.  The poor little guy!  He couldn’t wait to go home…

 

—o0o—

 

When Grantaire came home, he painted René’s cast up like a robotic arm, and René couldn’t be happier. 

            “Missed you, Papa.” René said, giving him a hug with his good arm.

            “I missed you too, Sunshine.” He replied with a smile.  Enjolras pulled him into a little kiss.

            “I missed you the most.” He smiled.


	9. Chapter 9

It was nearly pickup time at preschool when René’s teacher called the house. Grantaire picked up the phone, sighing when he saw the school on the caller ID, and hoped it wasn’t anything too bad…René was usually really well behaved.  Did teachers call to tell you your kid did something good? Probably not…

            “Hello?”

            “Is this René’s father?”

            “Yup.” He replied. “What’s up?”

            “Enjolras?” she asked.

“Uh nope Grantaire.”

“Oh!  I don’t believe we’ve spoken.  This is Mrs. Hall, René’s preschool teacher, um…I’m not sure if you’re in a position to pick him up, but if you are, I think it would be in his best interest if you came.”

            “Oh.  Yeah I can come.  What happened?  Is he alright?”

            “There was a problem at our circle time…René is very upset.  He’s been crying for nearly an hour now, and he’s asking for his Daddy.”

            “Okay. I’ll be right there.” Grantaire said, hanging up the phone.  He sighed as he tied his shoes.  He wasn’t Daddy. He hoped René would be happy with his presence, seeing as Enjolras was in court.  He hopped on the Vespa—Enjolras had the car—holding onto René’s little helmet, and headed to the preschool.

 

René’s teacher met him at the door and showed him to the small kitchen at the back of the building where René was sitting with another teacher, sobbing with a juice box in his hands.  He ran to Grantaire the moment he saw him.

            “Hey Sunshine. What happened?” he asked, picking him up.

            “I-Is Daddy h-here?” he asked.

            “Sorry Little Guy. Daddy’s in court today.”

            “I-I want-t-t Daddy.”

            “I know, buddy, I’m sorry.” He frowned slightly.  René had been getting very attached to Enjolras lately, and Grantaire worried. Maybe René didn’t like him. He had no real connection with Grantaire physically, but Enjolras was in his veins.  He was a part of Enjolras, but none of him was Grantaire.

            “There was a bit of an upset at circle time.” The teacher explained with a meek smile. Grantaire rocked René in his arms as he continued to cry.  “We were discussing families, and there was a little misunderstanding. René rightly spoke up and said that not all families had a mommy, but some of his classmates didn’t quite take to that…Some offensive things were said, unknowingly, of course, but René’s feelings were hurt.”

            “Oh okay…I see.” Grantaire said.  René sniffled violently, sobbing, beside himself. 

            “There is only another half hour until the end of the day…I thought it might be better if you just came to pick him up a little early.”

            “Yeah…We’ll get going…Thanks for calling.” He smiled.  “We’ll see you Monday.”  Mrs. Hall walked him out and waved as they left. 

 

            “I brought the Vespa.” Grantaire said, holding René’s hand.  He smiled meekly, still sniffling as Grantaire fastened the helmet under his chin. “You want to drive?” he asked. René nodded.  Of course he wouldn’t actually be driving, but Grantaire would let him sit in front and hold onto the handlebars.

 

Grantaire helped René up onto the seat and sat down behind him, kick starting the engine and scooting home.

 

—o0o—

 

René laid down on the couch, watching Peter Pan after he and Grantaire returned from his preschool.  Grantaire was milling around the house, wiping down the counter, checking Facebook, rearranging the pillows on René’s bed, and wiping down the counter again, all the while thinking. Why was René so intent on having Enjolras pick him up?  Why had he asked specifically for Enjolras?  Why did he always ask for Enjolras?  If he had a bad dream, he ran straight to Enjolras.  If he wanted a snack, he asked Enjolras.  If he needed help in the bathroom, he asked Enjolras. But why?  Had Grantaire done something wrong?  Was René afraid of him?  That couldn’t me…Enjolras was the disciplinary parent…After turning it over in his mind for nearly an hour, he decided it would just be best to ask him.

            “Hey Sunshine.” He said with a smile, sitting down beside René and pulling the little boy into his lap.

            “Hi Papa.” He replied.

            “I have a question for you.” he said.  René looked up at him, waiting for him to continue.  “How come you wanted Daddy to come to pick you up from school today?” René shrugged.

            “I wanted Daddy to make it better so everyone would listen.” He explained.  “Everybody listens to Daddy.”

            “What about when you had a bad dream last night.  You wanted Daddy. How come?”

            “Daddy will tell the monsters to go away.”

            “Can I tell them to go away?” he asked.  René thought for a moment.

            “Daddy talks so I’m not scared anymore.  He es-ex-explains it to me.” He said, stumbling over his words.

            “Oh I see. You wanted Daddy because he would explain things to your class and to you…And so he could tell you that monsters aren’t really real, right?”  René nodded. Grantaire smiled. “I thought you were mad at me!” he admitted.  René giggled.

            “No I love you.” he replied, hugging Grantaire around the neck, kneeling in his lap.  Grantaire returned the embrace.

            “I love you too, Sunshine.” Grantaire replied.  “Next time you need something, you can ask me, okay?  You know that, right?  You can ask me anything. You can come to me whenever you need to, okay?”

            “M’kay.” René replied. “Can you make monsters go away?”

            “You should have asked me sooner!  I have stuff that makes monsters go away forever.”

            “Really?”

            “Yup.” Grantaire said, standing up and heading into the kitchen, taking out a spray bottle of water and using a sharpie to write ‘Monster Spray’ on the outside, as well as a little drawing of a fluffy monster.  He showed it to René.

            “What’s that say?” he asked.

            “It says Monster Spray. Before you go to sleep, you spray the Monster Spray all around your room, and it makes it so that no monsters can’t come into your room anymore.”

            “Really?”

            “Yup.”

            “Is that how come there are no monsters in you and Daddy’s room?”

            “Yup.” He smiled, feeling as though a weight had been lifted off his back.  René did like him, and he had perfectly articulated his reason for asking for Enjolras.  He was very smart, and Grantaire was glad for that.

 

—o0o—

 

Enjolras came home after his court case, quite worn out, and yet somehow very fired up. The case was concerning a woman—Enjolras’ client—who had been sexually harassed by her boss, the defendant. She sued the company, but her boss fought back, stating that she was the one showing interest in him, and that he was the one being harassed.  Enjolras’ problem was proving that she was correct and that her boss was lying, but it was difficult.  It was more or less his word against hers, and Enjolras didn’t want to let her down.

            He dropped his briefcase beside the door, taking off his suit jacket and folding it, heading straight for the bedroom to get changed.  René and Grantaire were sitting on the bed, reading a book.

            “Daddy!” René cooed, jumping into Enjolras’ arms.  He hugged him, a sad, sleepy smile on his face, before putting him back down on the bed.

            “How was court?” Grantaire asked.

            “Like shi—shoot.” He tried to correct himself.  He didn’t like cursing in front of René.  “It was really not a good time.”

            “Aw I’m sorry, Apollo.” He said, standing and holding Enjolras, kissing his hair.

            “That’s alright. I’m home now, and I don’t have to worry about it until next Thursday.” He smiled, sitting on the bed. “So I can play with my Sunshine and my Lovely Grantaire.” He smiled.  René climbed into his lap.

            “But Daddy it’s sleepy time.” René said a bit sadly, looking out the window.  It was after eight, René’s usual bedtime, and he was tired.

            “Well Papa will help you get ready for bed white I get a shower.  How does that sound?”

            “No you.” René cooed. Grantaire frowned slightly.

            “Oh baby, Papa is going to put you to bed tonight.  You like it when Papa reads you books.”  René nodded. Grantaire picked him up and carried him into the bathroom to brush his teeth.

 

Once René was in bed, Grantaire climbed into bed beside Enjolras, who was reading his book.

            “Hey.” He said.

            “Hey.” Enjolras replied with a smile, closing his book and looking up, his big blue eyes framed by his glasses.  Grantaire smiled. He loved it when Enjolras wore his glasses. “How was your day, then, Grantaire?”

            “Okay…Mostly. I got that commission done. No more drawing weirdo cartoon giraffes.” He joked with a smile.  He had been working on a children’s book about a giraffe who couldn’t find anything he was good at; that meant Grantaire had to draw a giraffe failing at numerous activities before drawing the final image of said giraffe giving a hug—that’s what he was good at.  It was a cute little book, but Grantaire had grown bored of the character, and drawing a giraffe on a unicycle isn’t a fun time.

            “That’s great! I’m so happy…You’re always so nice and relaxed when you finish a commission.” Enjolras said, leaning against Grantaire’s bare chest, closing his eyes.

            “Yeah…” he said.

            “What? You don’t sound happy.”

            “Well…I picked up René early from school today.”  Enjolras sat up.

            “Why? Is he alright?”

            “Yeah! Yeah he’s fine, it was just…about…us I guess.  Some of the kids in his class sorta kinda hurt his feelings because he doesn’t really have a mom.”   Enjolras’ face reddened.

            “Elaborate.”

            “They were having circle time or whatever, and they were talking about their families and what makes a family, and…René tried to explain that you don’t need a mom to make a family, but some of the kids disagreed, I guess.  It made him feel bad.”

            “Did you talk to his teacher about it?”

            “Yeah.”

            “Did she resolve the issue?”

            “What? I..I don’t know. What do you mean?”

            “Did she explain to the other children that René is correct and that not having a mother or a father is perfectly acceptable?”

            “I…I think she just sort of left it alone.” Grantaire replied honestly.

            “Well that is a problem.” Enjolras said, becoming more passionate by the second.  “I’m going to have to have a talk with her about that, then.”

            “Enj, it isn’t a big deal. Don’t waste your time.” Grantaire said, holding him in his lap, combing his hand through his golden hair. Enjolras swatted his hand away and stood up, how he always did when he was fired up.

            “No.  This is most certainly a big deal!  This is the 21st century, Grantaire! The fact that our children are _still_ being taught prejudice is an outrage!  It’s a disgrace!”

            “They’re not being taught prejudice, Apollo.  René just got his feelings hurt.  It happens.”

            “No, Grantaire, saying someone’s shirt is an ugly color hurts their feelings.  Telling someone that their family is not legitimate is narrow-minded, bigoted, prejudice and intolerance.  I am not letting this slide!”

            “Well we can’t do anything about it right this second, so you should sit down and snuggle up with me.” Grantaire said, still sitting on the bed, his arms extended, ready to receive Enjolras, who sighed and settled back into his lap.

            “Daddy!” René called from his bedroom.  Enjolras shot up and hurried to his room.  Grantaire sighed. There he was calling Daddy again…Not Papa.

 

Enjolras returned a moment later.

            “He just wanted a drink.” He said with a smile.  Grantaire mumbled something in reply before rolling over and facing the door, away from Enjolras.  He bowed his eyebrows, placing one of his delicate hands on Grantaire’s shoulder.

            “What’s wrong?” he asked. “I’m sorry I got so fired up before, I just—”

            “No it’s not that. It’s fine.  It’s stupid.” Grantaire said, but Enjolras wasn’t content with that answer.

            “It isn’t stupid. Your feelings are never stupid, Grantaire.”  He rolled over and Enjolras kissed his nose with a little smile.

            “It’s René…He doesn’t…I think he likes you more than me.”

            “Oh Grantaire, he loves you so much.” Enjolras assured him, snuggled up beside him, his head on Grantaire’s chest.

            “He always asks for you…He was upset when you didn’t pick him up today.  His teacher said he was asking for you.”

            “Grantaire, he loves you. He has way more fun with you than he does with me!”

            “But he always wants you for the important stuff…When he’s sick, when he’s upset…he always asks for you…Even just now.  He asked for you, not me.

            “Grantaire, getting him a glass of water isn’t important.”

            “I just feel like he defaults to you, and I just…I don’t know.”

            “Do you remember his first step?” Enjolras asked.  Grantaire smiled, nodding at the fond memory.  “Who did he walk to first?”

            “Me.”

            “You. And do you remember his first word?”

            “Papa.”

            “Not Daddy.” Enjolras smiled. “And his favorite snuggle blanket, the green one.  The one he can’t sleep without.  Who gave him that?”

            “Me.”

            “You.” Grantaire smiled. “Those are the important things, Grantaire.  Don’t ever feel like he doesn’t love you.”

            “Papa!” René shrieked from his bedroom, followed by incessant screaming and tears.  Grantaire sprung out of bed and ran across the hall to René’s room, followed quickly by Enjolras.  René didn’t throw such a fit unless something was really wrong.

            “Hey Sunshine, it’s okay!” Grantaire said, sitting on the bed and scooping René into his arms. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

            “Spider.” He mumbled into Grantaire’s chest.  Enjolras recoiled.  Spiders and other creepy crawlies were not his area of expertise.  He looked around, trying to see where the spider was so that he might avoid it.  He denied being afraid of them, but it was obvious that he was.  Grantaire smiled.

            “Oh Buddy it’s okay! I’ll take care of it.” He said. “Where is he?” René pointed to the ceiling, and sure enough, a spider was crawling just above his bed.  “I can fix that.” He said, grabbing one of René’s books and making to slap the spider, but René shouted.

            “No Papa don’t hurt him!” Grantaire stopped mid-swing and looked down to René

            “Okay. Don’t worry.  We’ll just put him outside, alright?”

            “M’kay.” René replied as Grantaire let the spider crawl onto the cover of the book. He opened the window and let him crawl onto the side of the house.

            “All set?” he asked. René nodded.  “Good.” Grantaire said, leaning over and giving the baby a hug, holding him close, one hand in his silky curls.  “Love you, Sunshine.”

            “Love you too Papa.” He replied, settling back down into his bed.  Grantaire looked to Enjolras, and Enjolras smiled.

            “Night, Baby.” He said from the doorway.

            “Night night Daddy.” He said, hunkered down under his blankets. 

 

            “See?” Enjolras said once he and Grantaire were back in bed.  “He loves you.  he needs you. Without you, René and I would be huddled under a blanket waiting for the spider to go away while simultaneously worrying it would get tangled in our luscious hair.” Grantaire laughed.

            “Why are you so scared of spiders?” he asked, kissing Enjolras.

            “I’m not.” He replied.

            “But you just—”

            “Who told you I was afraid of spiders?” he asked with a grin.  Grantaire rolled his eyes and smiled.

            “Good night, Apollo.”

            “Good night, Grantaire.”

 

 

 

~Not sure how I feel about this chapter...Do you like it?


	10. Chapter 10

The next Monday, Enjolras walked René into preschool, holding his hand, his head held high. He was on a mission today. Grantaire followed meekly behind, for moral support—more for the teacher than for Enjolras.  He knew Enjolras would be fine, it was the poor teacher he was about to berate that worried him.  He combed a hand through his hair as he knocked on the door to the back room. René went off to play, and Mrs. Hall opened the door, surprised, but with a smile.

            “Good morning, Enjolras.” She said, “What can I do for you?  Oh and you’re Grantaire!  You came to pick up René on Friday!”

            “Yup that’s me!” Grantaire said lightly with a smile.

            “Would it be possible for us to speak with you for a quick moment?” Enjolras asked, all business. Grantaire secretly loved it when Enjolras got this way—all fired up.  It was honestly attractive, and what Grantaire first fell in love with.

            “Yes of course! Is everything alright? Is there a problem with René?”

            “Honestly, Grantaire and I were a bit disturbed by Friday’s incident, and I was curious as to how the problem was resolved.” Enjolras explained, following Mrs. Hall into the back room and sat down in front of her desk.

            “I can assure you that the problem has been successfully resolved.  In fact, René did most of the explaining himself.” She said with a smile. Enjolras pursed his lips, thinking.

            “But how can children be expected to understand something of this nature with nothing but a vague explanation from another toddler?” he said after a moment.

            “I feel that there isn’t much to understand.  René was only upset because one of his classmates misunderstood him.”

            “No, René was upset because his family was invalidated.”

            “I don’t think—”

            “He is a very articulate little boy, Mrs. Hall, and he explained the situation in detail to Grantaire and I. He was very upset.”

            “I believe ‘was’ is the key word, Enjolras.  He’s four. I doubt he even remembers what happened Friday.”  Enjolras’ set his jaw, his lip giving a little twitch.  Grantaire saw the fury building in his eyes, and discreetly took his hand under the desk.

            “I do not believe that he forgot, and I do not believe his classmates forgot either.” Enjolras said, trying his very best to remain calm and keep from shouting. He could stay cool and calm in court, no matter what the case, but when it came to his family, he boiled over quickly.

            “What exactly would you like me to do?” she asked, seeming a bit angry herself.   She was far older than Enjolras—old enough to be his mother—and she didn’t appreciate being told off by such a young man.

            “I would like you to teach a lesson to the class, explaining that the family structure does not need to be a mother, father, and their children in order to be effective.” He said, giving himself a mental pat on the back when he was finished. He had stated his point without becoming completely livid.  That was a first.

            Grantaire took Enjolras’ hand and gently prompted him to sit back down.  He obeyed, and sat quietly, waiting politely for an answer.

            “Wouldn’t that only embarrass René further?” she said.

            “You could just sort of sneak it in with another lesson.” Grantaire suggested with a polite smile. “Have them draw their families then talk about them…” he continued meekly, walking on eggshells. He didn’t want to offend anyone. Mrs. Hall nodded.

            “Fair enough.” She smiled. “Perhaps you would like to teach the lesson, Grantaire.  René tells me you are an illustrator.”  Grantaire beamed.

            “Yeah! Yeah that’d be great!” he smiled. Enjolras took his hand and squeezed it tight. 

 

—o0o—

 

That Friday afternoon, Grantaire walked into René’s preschool classroom with a smile and a bag filled with art and supplies.  He and Enjolras had kept the visit a secret to René, so he was surprised along with the rest of the class, and popped up to give Grantaire a hug when he arrived.

            “Daddy how come you came here?!” he asked with a grin.

            “I’m here to teach your class some art!” he explained, giving René a gentle, guiding push on the back. He returned to the circle of his classmates on the carpet.

            “Okay, children! We have a very special guest today! René’s Papa has come to teach a lesson on art!  Everyone say hello to Mr. Grantaire.”

            “Hello, Mr. Gr-da---g-er—tar---” the class cooed in chorus, completely missing his name. Grantaire only smiled and waved.

            “His name is GRAN-TAI-RE.” René announced.

            “Just call me R if you feel like it.” Grantaire replied.  The kids stared up at him blankly.  He stepped to the front of the room, unfolding his easel and placing a series of oil paintings on it. 

            “Okay.” He began with a smile, taking a deep breath.  “Here I have some paintings I did.  In these paintings are some people you guys might know from around town or…other places.” He grinned crookedly, slightly embarrassed.  “But all of the people in these pictures are special to me.” He stepped to the side and revealed the full collection of paintings: one was of himself, smiling with his hair all a mess.  The next painting was of his father with his bushy beard.  The third was of Enjolras first thing in the morning, with his hair a frizzy mess, making a funny face.  Next to the painting of Enjolras was a painting of René, followed by a painting of Enjolras’ mother and father. 

            “Can anyone guess why these people are really important to me?” Grantaire asked.  A few kids raised their hands.  He called on a little girl with two long blonde braids.

            “’Cause they’re all nice.” She smiled. 

            “Well that’s kind of right.” Grantaire smiled.

            “That one’s me!” René cooed, pointing to the painting of himself. 

            “You’re right, René!” Grantaire replied.  “Actually, that’s a good idea…René give your class a hint.  Who are all of these people?”  René stood up proudly and pointed to the paintings.

            “This one is you, and that one is Pepe and Mimi, and this one is Pap, and that one is me and this one is Daddy.” He smiled when he finished.

            “But I thought he was your Daddy.” One of the kids called, pointing to Grantaire.

            “He’s Papa.” René clarified.

            “But that means daddy too.”

            “We’ll get to that in a sec.” Grantaire said, rubbing René’s golden curls.  He sat back down on the carpet.  “How about now.  Now can anyone tell me why these guys are all important?”

            “They’re your family!” a little boy shouted.

            “Raise your hand next time, Avery.” Mrs. Hall said.

            “Yeah that’s why they’re important!” Grantaire said enthusiastically.  “Great job!  And you know what? All of you guys have a family.” He continued. “So I want you guys to go to your tables and draw your family, then we’ll come up here and talk about everyone’s family, okay?”  All of the kids scurried off to their desks.

 

About half an hour later, all of the children were back on the carpet, all of their family portraits hung up in a row at the front of the classroom.

            “Wow you guys! These are pretty good!” Grantaire smiled, inspecting the drawings.  Most of them were hardly distinguishable as people, but Grantaire grinned anyhow. He loved little kid artwork. “Let’s start over here. Whose drawing is this?” he asked, pointing to the drawing on the far right.  The little girl with blonde braids popped up.

            “That one’s mine.” She smiled.

            “Awesome. I really like that green crayon you used.  That’s pretty spiffy. Would you like to talk about your family?” she nodded.

            “This is my mommy, and that’s my daddy, and that’s my bunny.” She explained, pointing.

            “Very cool.” Grantaire said, giving her a high five.  Enjolras, who had slipped in unnoticed a bit late, snapped a picture from the back of the room.

            “That one is mine!” René shouted as Grantaire pointed to the next drawing—one of the better illustrations. René was around artwork and art supplies all the time, and had become accustomed to it.  Even so, the people in his drawings didn’t have bodies. They were only circles with arms and legs. 

            “Good job, little man. Who’s who?”  Grantaire asked.  René put his little hands on his hips. 

            “You know!” René replied. His classmates giggled.

            “Well your class doesn’t know!” Grantaire retorted.

            “That one’s Daddy,” he said, pointing to a short little circle with curly blonde hair. “And that one’s Papa.” He pointed to a taller figure with dark hair and eyes.  “And that one’s me!” he indicated the smallest figure, between the two larger ones.  They were all holding hands.

            “Great job, Buddy.” Grantaire whispered to René as he went to sit down. 

            The class continued on this way until all of the children had gone up.  Most of the children had traditional families: one mom, one dad, and maybe a sibling.  A few of them lived with their mothers, a few had divorced parents, and one little boy lived with his grandparents. 

            “Look at all of these families!” Grantaire said with a smile.  “All of them are very different, aren’t they?”  the kids nodded collectively.  “That’s what’s great about families.  All of them are great, even if they’re a little different. Like you, your name is Floyd, right?” he asked the little boy who lived with his grandparents. “You live with your Mimi and Pepe, and they’re your family.  And Olivia,” he looked to a little girl with a bow in her hair, “you have a big brother with autism.  And you have six sisters!” he said to a boy with thick brown hair, “and your mommy and daddy adopted you, and your daddy is in the army so you live with your mommy, and you have a baby brother.  And it’s all great! There are so many different ways a family can be put together.  That’s what makes families so awesome.” He smiled, and found that the children were all smiling back. 

“Whose family is most different?” a boy asked.

            “Laura because she’s adopted.” A girl cooed. 

            “Tristan has six sisters!”

            “I have a turtle!”

            “McKenzie has a hamster AND a bunny!”

            “Sydney only has a mommy.”

            “René doesn’t have a mommy at all.”

            “But that’s okay.” René piped.

            “You’re right.” Grantaire said with a smile.  “You don’t need a mommy or a daddy for your family to be a good one…There isn’t any one thing that makes a family a family.  It’s just people who care about you.”

            “But how come René doesn’t have a mommy?  My daddy died when I was a baby.” Sydney explained.

            “Did René’s mommy die?” another boy asked.

            “No my mommy is from America!” René shouted, seeming angry.  He stood up.  Grantaire put a gentle hand on his shoulder.

            “But how come she isn’t in your picture?” the boy continued.

            “Okay!” Grantaire shouted in an attempt to quiet everyone down.  “Okay.  René doesn’t really have a mommy because he’s got me and his daddy instead.” Grantaire looked to Enjolras in the back of the room and smiled.  “And that’s okay.  Just like it’s okay how Sydney has just a mommy and how Tristan has six sisters. We’re just a different sort of family.” He smiled.

            “Is that one René’s daddy?” the girl with blonde braids asked, pointing to the picture of Enjolras.

            “Yup. That’s René’s daddy.” He smiled. Enjolras snapped another picture. René heard the camera click and whipped around, standing up and running to Enjolras, jumping up onto his lap. Everyone looked.

            “Hi everyone!” Enjolras said, giving René a hug before giving him a push back toward his classmates.

            “That’s Daddy!” René shouted, scurrying back to his class.  Mrs. Hall smiled.

            “Everyone say hello to Mr. Enjolras.” Mrs. Hall said.  The class did so.

            “But you’re René’s daddy.” A little boy said, pointing to Grantaire.

            “I’m Daddy. Mr. Grantaire is Papa.” Enjolras smiled, walking up to the front of the room and standing next to Grantaire.

            “It’s a little confusing, but…That’s okay.” Grantaire shrugged. 

            “Mrs. Hall, can my mommy and daddy come in next week?” the girl with the braids asked. Mrs. Hall laughed.

 

—o0o—

 

“After you left, everyone in my class said they wanted Papa to come again! And then we drew more pictures and everyone said Papa was a good drawer and—and—”          

            “Lay down, Sunshine.” Enjolras said with a smile, lying René back onto his pillow, tucking him in. “It’s time to sleep, Baby.”

            “Nobody said mean things anymore about you and Papa!”

            “That’s wonderful, René! I’m so glad!  But it’s bedtime now.  We’ll talk about it more tomorrow, alright?”

            “Okay.” He replied with a smile, hunkering down under his blankets.  Grantaire came into the bedroom, fresh out of the shower, a towel around his waist.

            “Hey Sunshine! I wanted to say goodnight so I got out of the shower real quick.” He grinned.

            “Nightnight, Papa.” René said, giving Grantaire a hug.  “You’re all wet.” Grantaire smiled.


	11. Chapter 11

“Don’t go crazy cleaning, Enjolras.  It’s just my dad.”  Grantaire said as he flipped channels on the TV as Enjolras wiped down the counter, shooing the cat and cleaning up his paw prints.

            “I just want the house to look nice…He doesn’t come very often.”

            “It’s okay. He’s not particular.” He replied, standing and walking to Enjolras, giving him a hug.  “He won’t mind a little mess.”

            “What time did he say he would be here?” Enjolras asked, his face against Grantaire’s chest, the feather duster in his hand.

            “He said four, but he’s always fashionably late.” He smiled.

            “I have to pick René up at three from his playdate…” Enjolras thought.  “I’ll have time.”

            “Yup.” Grantaire said, taking Enjolras’ hand with a smile.

            “What are you doing?” he asked with a suspicious grin.

            “Nothing.” Grantaire replied, placing his other hand on Enjolras’ lower back, sending a pleasant shiver through him.  He returned the gesture with a light scratch to the nape of Grantaire’s neck, playing with the wisp of dark curls that resided there.  He smiled, and Grantaire guided him into a kiss, leading him over to the couch and sitting.  He pulled Enjolras down onto his lap and grinned, hooking the collar of his shirt with his finger and drawing it down, exposing his delicate collarbones. Grantaire knew that even a touch to the clavicle would have Enjolras in a puddle in seconds. He took full advantage of his knowledge and distracted Enjolras with another kiss as he ran his finger across his collarbone.  Enjolras gasped and fell into him, yearning for contact, but Grantaire denied him, holding his knee up and using it to keep Enjolras just far enough away from him to be frustrating. Enjolras pressed himself up against Grantaire’s leg, and Grantaire laughed.

            “I haven’t seen you this desperate since our wedding night.” He chuckled.  Enjolras smiled and pulled the elastic out of his hair, putting it around his wrist.  He shook out his curls, knowing it drove Grantaire crazy.  R reached out and tugged on one of the golden curls, then watched it bounce back.

            “How come you’re allowed to touch my hair, but I can’t have a snuggle?” Enjolras asked.

            “Because you’re a dork.”

            “Thank you.”

            “Any time.” Grantaire lowered his knee, finally allowing Enjolras to hunker down next to him.  He was so skinny, he fit nicely between Grantaire and the backrest of the sofa.

            “Love you, Apollo.”

            “Love you to.” He smiled.

 

—o0o—

 

René popped up to answer the door when Grantaire’s father arrived, and grinned when he saw him.

            “Pap!” he cooed. Grantaire’s father lifted him up and gave him a hug.

            “Hey there, René!”

            “Hey, Dad.” Grantaire said with a smile, giving him a hug as he held the baby.

            “How’ve you been, R? Where’s Enjolras?” he replied, handing Grantaire a shopping bag of little gifts for René.

            “I’m right here!” Enjolras called from the bedroom, hurrying out, pulling his hair back as he did so. “Sorry!  I turn into a dandelion when it gets this humid.” Grantaire’s father laughed.

            “Presents?” René asked. Enjolras shook his head.

            “René be polite.”

            “I am polite.” He said.

            “He’s alright.” Grantaire’s father said with a smile.

            “What’s been going on with you, Jacques?” Enjolras asked.  Grantaire’s father set René down.

            “Not much…Same as always. Still fixing cars…Still in the same apartment.” He shrugged.  Enjolras smiled.  Grantaire shared many mannerisms with his father.  Even the way they spoke was similar.  They looked alike as well; stocky, scruffy, thick, dark hair—of course his father’s was almost entirely grey.  Grantaire also tended to keep his face shaved—at least mostly.  Grantaire knew that Enjolras liked him shaved better than stubbly, even though he never said so.  His father had a bit of a beard.

            “Want anything?” Grantaire asked.

            “Nah I’m good.” He said simply, almost sadly.

            “Sit and watch Totoro!” René cooed, bouncing on the futon, which was pulled out for Enjolras and Grantaire.

            “Okay!” Jacques said with a smile, sitting down next to René and pulling him into his lap.

            “I’ll take your bag into the bedroom.” Enjolras smiled, taking the small suitcase.

            “Thanks, Enjolras.” He replied.

            “I’ll start dinner.” Grantaire smiled.

 

—o0o—

 

After dinner, Enjolras, René, and Jacques sat on the floor in front of the fire place, playing go fish while Grantaire took a shower.

            “Daddy do you have a duck?” René asked, his cards laid out on the floor in front of him. He didn’t quite understand the concept of keeping his cards hidden, but it didn’t really matter. Enjolras always made sure he won.

            “I do.” He said, handing René the card with a little rubber duck in the middle.  “Pap’s turn.”

            “René, do you have a bumble bee?” Jacques asked, though it was obvious that René had no bee in his collection of cards on the floor in front of him.

            “Nope!” he giggled.

            “Oh darn!” Jacques said, slapping his hand on his knee in mock exasperation.  He took a card from the pile.  René was delighted.  “Daddy’s turn now.” Jacques smiled to Enjolras.

            “Pap, do you have a cookie?”

            “Yes!” he said, handing Enjolras the card. 

            “My turn!” René shouted. Grantaire flopped down on the futon in his flannel pajama pants, crossing his legs.

            “Who’s winning?” he asked.

            “Me!” René said with a smile.

            “Nice job, Sunshine!” Grantaire replied.

            “René, would you like to finish the game, or would you like to watch the movie Pap brought you?” Enjolras asked.

            “I want to watch the movie. Is it allowed?” he asked. He had already exceeded his TV hour for the day.

            “It’s a special day. Pap’s here so we can watch another video.” He smiled.

            “Okay!” he grinned, hopping up onto Grantaire’s lap as Enjolras scooped up the cards and put in the DVD.

            “You can sit up here if you want, Dad.” Grantaire said.

            “Nah I’m good over here.” He said, sitting in the armchair by the window.  Enjolras sat down next to René.

            “Papa why do you have that booboo?” René asked.  Grantaire bowed his eyebrows.

            “What booboo, buddy?” he asked.

            “This booboo.” He said, pointing to the scar that began on Grantaire’s shoulder and ran down his right side.

            “Oh buddy that’s not a booboo. It’s always there.” He smiled. Jacques looked away.

            “How come it doesn’t go away?” René asked.

            “Watch your video, Sunshine.” Enjolras said, pointing to the TV, realizing Jacques was becoming uncomfortable.  He had given Grantaire that scar.  He sighed, flashing back to that night. 

Grantaire’s teacher called the house, stating that he hadn’t brought lunch money, and was wondering if they needed financial assistance. In truth, he had forgotten to pack Grantaire a lunch because he was too drunk the night before, but he couldn’t tell that to the teacher.  Instead, he took out his embarrassment on Grantaire. 

He distinctly remembered screaming at him that he should have packed his own lunch, and that seven is old enough to make his own sandwiches. He punched him. He smacked him in the jaw. He tried to hit him in the head with an empty vodka bottle but—thank God—missed.  It shattered against the wall.  He only became more enraged when Grantaire tried to hide in his bedroom, and wound up dragging him into the bathroom, throwing him down into the bathtub. Then he took the pot of boiling water off the stove.  It was meant to be used for a cup of coffee, but in his drunken rage, Jacques thought it would be better used to further torture his little son.  He poured the entirety of the kettle over Grantaire’s midsection, scalding him and leaving a nasty scar he would live with for the rest of his life. It would be a part of him forever, a reminder of his abusive childhood.  A reminder to Jacques of his mistakes…His terrible, hellish mistakes.

            Jacques stood up and sighed, walking into the bathroom.  Grantaire followed shortly behind, setting René onto Enjolras’ lap. He pulled on a shirt before knocking on the bathroom door.

            “Dad.” He said quietly, cracking the door.  “Dad it’s alright.” Jacques sat on the toilet cover, his face in his hands.

            “It’s not alright, Grantaire. I’m a shit father.” Grantaire didn’t know what to say. It was more or less the truth. He had been a terrible, abusive parent, and Grantaire would never be able to fully forgive him. He would always be weary around his father.  He would always be nervous when he was alone with him.

            “Dad…You were young… You didn’t know what to do.”

            “I should have known not to pour a kettle over my fucking kid.  Your little guy shouldn’t have to see that.  He shouldn’t have to look at what I did to you.  You didn’t deserve that.”

            “You didn’t deserve any of the shit that happened to you either.  Mom shouldn’t have left.  Your dad shouldn’t have beat the shit out of you.  Your mom shouldn’t have bought you alcohol whenever you asked. Someone should have gotten you into rehab or something.  It’s not all you. It’s not all anyone. It was a shitty, fucked up situation, and I just happened to be at the end of it…And that’s not really anyone’s fault…”

            “You can be pissed at me, Grantaire.  I would be pissed at me.”

            “You know…I was pissed at you. I was pissed at you for a really long time.  But when Enjolras’ parents came by, Enjolras said something really…really good.  He said that keeping someone out of your life doesn’t really fix anything.  Being mad at you isn’t going to make anything better…Trying to sort of…move past it will make it better.  You’re trying hard. You’re great to René. He loves you.  Enjolras is a little weary because he knows what happened when I was a kid, but he likes you too.  You haven’t had anything to drink since our wedding night, and even then you didn’t get carried away or anything.  You’re really cleaning up, and that’s what matters.”

            “That doesn’t make anything better.  No matter what I do now I can’t fix what I did to you.”  Grantaire bit his lip and looked down, thinking back to everything his father had done to him. He broke his arm. He snapped his jaw. He broke his nose. He poured a kettle of hot water over him.  Sometimes he neglected to feed him.  It was a terrible childhood; one that nobody should ever have to live though, but even so, Grantaire did love his father.  The way he saw it, his father didn’t hurt him.  It was alcohol that ruined his childhood—ruined the majority of his life thus far. He didn’t hate his father. He hated alcohol.

            “Yeah…You can’t change what happened…But you can make good stuff happen now.  You’re an awesome grandfather to René.  He was talking about you all day!  He drew a picture of you, he even made you a macaroni necklace at preschool.  He’s going to give it to you tomorrow.”

            “Really? Heh!  He’s a funny little guy.” Jacques replied with a chuckle.

            “Give him the childhood you couldn’t give me.  That’ll make everything okay.” Grantaire smiled.  “Come on back out when you’re ready, kay?”

            “Yeah…Yeah thanks.” Grantaire left the bathroom and shut the door, returning to Enjolras and René.

            “Everything okay?” Enjolras asked as Grantaire rounded the corner, craning his neck to reach for a kiss without displacing René, who was snuggled into Enjolras’ lap.

            “Yup.” Grantaire replied with a smile.

            “Good.” Enjolras replied.

            “Where’s Pap?” René asked.

            “He’s just having a little alone time right now.  He’ll be back in a minute.” Grantaire replied, sitting down next to Enjolras, making a René sandwich.  Jacques came back a moment later, sitting down in the armchair with a smile. René slipped from Enjolras’ lap and hurried to his grandpa, hopping up onto his lap. 

            “Hey there, René!” he said with a bright smile, scooping him up and hugging him tight. “How do you like your movie?”

            “I like the big grey one!” he said, showing the size of Totoro with his arms.

            “I like the cat bus best.” Enjolras smiled.

            “Can we ride in the cat?” René asked, sitting in Jacques lap.

            “The cat bus is just pretend, buddy.” Enjolras explained.  “But maybe Papa can paint one on your wall, if you’d like.”

            “Can you, Papa?” he asked, quite excited.

            “I think that can be arranged.” Grantaire said with a smile.

            “You have good Daddies, René.” Jacques said, running his hand gently through Rene’s curls, as if afraid he’d spoil them if he was too rough.  Enjolras smiled and looked to Grantaire.  Grantaire leaned in quickly and gave him a surprise kiss as René played with his elephant in his lap.  Jacques shook his head with a chuckle.  “They take good care of you.” he added.  René nodded and grinned.

 

 

 

~Two chapters at once.  Yay!


	12. Chapter 12

René woke up early with Enjolras, as usual, and ate his cereal while Enjolras researched a case, looking through his files and searching the internet, writing notes and sighing when emails came in.

            “Daddy?” René asked when he was finished.

            “Yes, Sunshine?” Enjolras replied, smiling down at René from his stool at the counter.

            “How come Pap got sad when I said Papa had a booboo?” he asked.  Enjolras thought for a moment, then closed his laptop and sat beside René at the table.

            “Do you know what a scar is, René?” he asked.  René shook his head. “A scar is like…Sometimes, when you get a booboo, it leaves a mark, even after the booboo goes away. That’s what a scar is.”

            “So Papa had a big booboo?” René replied with a little frown, looking up at Enjolras with his big blue eyes.

            “Yup. Papa had a really big booboo on his shoulder and his chest when he was little.”

            “But how come Pap got sad?” Enjolras sighed, unsure of what to tell René.  He hated lying to him, but he didn’t exactly want to tell him the truth either. René loved his Pap, and Enjolras didn’t want to ruin their relationship.  Even if he didn’t entirely trust Jacques, and wouldn’t allow René to be alone with him, he did respect Jacques for cleaning up for Grantaire. It didn’t fix what happened, but it did show Grantaire how truly sorry he was, and Enjolras knew that was difficult to do for him.  Seeing Grantaire struggle with his alcoholism, he understood the hardships Jacques had to go through, and was proud of him for working so hard.

            “Well…” Enjolras continues after a moment of thinking.  “When Papa was a little boy, Pap was sick.” He said.  René listened intently.  “When he was sick, he couldn’t…He had trouble thinking, and one day, he hurt Papa and gave him the booboo on his shoulder by accident.”  It wasn’t entirely a lie.  Jacques really did love Grantaire, and had he been in his right mind, he never would have hurt him.  “When Pap saw Papa’s scar, it made him remember that he hurt him.  It made him sad, even though he didn’t mean to hurt Papa.”

            “Oh…” René said, biting his lip and thinking—a habit he had inherited from Enjolras.

            “Do you understand, René?” Enjolras asked, worried René misunderstood and would be frightened. He had no reason to be leery of Jacques. He had recovered as best he could, and was doing well.  He loved René with all his heart, and would never hurt him.

            “Mm hm. Pap gave Papa a booboo by accident but he’s sorry and it makes him sad.” René paraphrased.

            “You’re a smart little sunshine, René.” Enjolras said with a smile, running his hand through René’s curls. René was almost five, and his hair was getting long.  He really did look like a dandelion, his hair fluffy and wild.  It was long enough to put into a ponytail, but it wasn’t in his way, and Grantaire thought it was cute, all fluffed out around his head, almost like a blonde afro. 

            “Oh good. I was worried I’d wake you up.” Jacques said, walking into the kitchen quietly.

            Though alike in temperament and coloration, Jacques was tall and lanky, very skinny, and scruffy. Grantaire was stockier and shorter than his father, only about 5’10.  Jacques was over six feet.

            “Oh no! René and I are early risers.” Enjolras said with a smile, standing up and taking René’s bowl to the sink. “Would you like something for breakfast? Coffee?  Tea?”

            “A coffee would be great, thanks.” He replied, sitting down next to René, leaning on his elbows and smiling at the little boy.

            “Morning, René.” He said with a smile.

            “Hi Pap!” he replied, putting his elbows on the table next to Jacques’ and supporting his head on his hands.

            “You look just like your daddy, you know that?” he said.

            “Daddy has blonde hair too.” René replied.

            “You have a nice nose like your Daddy.  And freckles.”

            “What’s freckles?” René asked.

            “The little spots on your nose!” Jacques said with a chuckle.  René felt his nose, crossing his eyes, trying to see. 

            “Here, René” Enjolras said, holding a reflective frying pan in front of his face.  René inspected himself then smiled.

            “You have that too!” he said, pointing to Enjolras.

            “You’re right!” Enjolras said, ruffling René’s curls before cleaning out the bowl and putting it away. He poured Jacques a mug of coffee and half a cup for himself, filling the rest with milk and a little cream, as well as quite a bit of sugar.  He didn’t actually like coffee, but didn’t want to spend the time brewing a cup of tea when company was visiting.  With enough sugar and cream, anything will taste good, even bitter coffee.

            “Do you want cream or—?” Enjolras asked Jacques.

            “Black is good.” He smiled.

            “Alright.” Enjolras replied, handing him his mug.  Enjolras sat across from René, handing him a piece of paper and his box of crayons from the shelf.

            “Letters?” René asked.

            “Yup.” Enjolras said, sipping his cream-with-some-coffee.  “How about ‘R’?  Can you draw an ‘R’?” René picked up the yellow crayon—his favorite color—and went to write the letter.  “Can you hold your crayon the right way, please?” Enjolras asked. René corrected himself. “Great job, Sunshine!” Enjolras smiled.

            “You call him Sunshine,” Jacques said with a grin. “That’s sweet.  Grantaire’s mother used to call him ‘puppy’ when he was little.”

            “Daddy I did it!” René cooed. A big capital ‘R’ was written in yellow crayon.

            “Perfect! High five.” Enjolras said, offering René his hand.  He slapped it and smiled.

            “How about you write your name. Do you remember how?” Enjolras asked.

            “Mm hm!” René went straight to work, biting his lip as he concentrated, writing an ‘E’ and then an ‘N’ and another ‘E’, taking it very slowly.  Jacques watched intently with a smile.  This was the first time he had seen something like this.  He didn’t remember much from Grantaire’s childhood, and certainly didn’t watch him write his name in crayon.  He was fascinated.

            “Daddy is it right?” he asked. Enjolras flipped the paper around to read it properly.

            “It’s _almost_ perfect.” He said, turning the paper back to face René. “This E in the middle doesn’t need the little line on top.  This one on the end gets the little line.  Try one more time!”

            “I don’t want to.” René said with a frown.

            “One more time, and then you can pick a lolli.” Enjolras said.

            “Okay!” René agreed. Like Enjolras, René had a terrible sweet tooth.  He could be bribed into almost anything with the promise of a dumdum.  He wrote his name again, correctly this time, and Enjolras took the glass jar of dumdums out of the top cupboard, standing on his toes to reach.  If they kept them within René’s reach, they would all be gone within the hour.  Enjolras offered the jar to René, and he fished around, looking for a raspberry lemonade pop, his favorite.  He smiled when he found one and opened it immediately.  Enjolras pulled one out for himself, cherry cola, and popped it into his mouth.  René chuckled.

            “Dad-dy!” René sang. “Those are _my_ lollies!”

           “Well I guess you’re going to have to share!” Enjolras replied, placing the jar down onto the table.  “Why don’t you ask Pap if he’d like one.”

            “Do you like lollies, Pap?” René asked, pushing the jar over to him.

            “Aw that’s okay. You keep them.” Jacques replied with a smile.  “Thank you for the offer, though.”

            “Do I get one?” Grantaire asked, stretching as he walked around the corner and into the kitchen.

            “Okay!” René said, holding the jar out for Grantaire.

            “Aw I’m just teasing you. You and Daddy eat them so fast, you can’t spare any for me!” he replied, pouring himself a cup of coffee and sitting down.  Enjolras scooted his chair closer to Grantaire’s and leaned his head on his shoulder. Grantaire draped his arm lazily around Enjolras’ shoulders.

            “Papa can I play with my trains?” René asked.

            “Sure, buddy. You don’t have to ask.” Grantaire replied with a smile. René slid off his chair and ran to his bedroom to play with his wooden trains.  Grantaire had set up an elaborate track on the floor the day before, and René loved driving his trains under the bed and across the carpet.

            “You guys must be busy with him running around here all the time.” Jacques said with a smile. Enjolras laughed.

            “He’s good…He doesn’t get into too much trouble.”  Grantaire explained with a chuckle.

            “Constant cleaning up though.” Enjolras added.

            “Well that’s your job. I just play with him.” Grantaire grinned.  Enjolras looked up at him with mock exasperation.

            “No time to yourselves, I imagine.” Jacques continued, raising an eyebrow.  Enjolras blushed.

            “Not much.” He replied. “But it’s alright…He’s worth it.” he looked up to Grantaire again. Grantaire smiled.

            “Well…We have fun when he stays with Jehan and Feuilly.” He noted.  Enjolras’ blush deepened.

            “What’s wrong, Enjolras?” Jacques said with a sort of smirk.

            “I just wasn’t expecting to be talking about this so early in the morning with my father-in-law.” He buried his face in Grantaire’s shoulder.

            “Well it’s important.” Jacques said.  “I want to make sure you guys are getting along all right.”

            “We get along fine.” Grantaire smirked.

            “Stop! Talk about something else!” Enjolras mumbled into Grantaire.  “Talk about my kitten.” He said as Roux hopped up onto his lap.

            “Your ‘kitten’ sat on my face last night.” Jacques said.

            “Were you sleeping on the right side of the bed?” Enjolras asked, petting the cat, his first ‘baby’.

            “Yeah…”

            “He thought you were me.” Grantaire said with a sort of grunt.  “That cat is _all_ Enjolras’. He’ll snuggle up with him all nice and purrs when Enjolras pets him and behaves all politely when Enjolras brings him to the hospital and stuff, but when it’s me, that cat turns evil.”

            “Aw!  No, not my lovely kitty cat!” Enjolras lifted Roux up under his front legs and kissed his nose.

            “I don’t know if you’d want me to, and I understand if you don’t, but if you guys want to have a day to yourselves, I’ll watch René.” Jacques offered somewhat nervously. He knew Enjolras didn’t exactly trust him, and that Grantaire could never completely forgive him for what happened when he was a child, but he figured he’d try, if only to be polite. Enjolras looked to Grantaire, who shrugged.

            “Are you sure you’d want to? He can be a handful.” Enjolras said.

            “I’m good…But, I mean, I understand if you don’t want to…”

            “Um…Grantaire, do you…?” Enjolras asked quietly.

            “Sure.” He said with a smile. “Yeah.  Sounds like a plan.  We’ll just be out for a few hours.  No big deal.” Enjolras took his hand and squeezed nervously.

            “I can call or whatever you want.  I’m good. I promise.” Jacques said, seeing Enjolras’ worry.  “I’ve been in therapy and treatment and I’m…I’m okay.  We’ll have fun.”

            “Alright.” Enjolras said after a moment of contemplation.  “Thanks.” He smiled, though he was terrified.  Jacques grinned, beaming.  He looked as if he had won the lottery.  He had been trying to earn trust, to repair himself, for years, and this validated his efforts. He was trusted enough to stay with his grandson, and he couldn’t be happier.

            “Alright. Good!” he said. Grantaire smiled as well, pleased his father was so happy.  His life had been hellish from the beginning, and he hadn’t been really, truly happy in so long.

 

—o0o—

 

“Okay, Sunshine!  You’re going to stay with Pap for a bit, alright?” Enjolras gave René a hug.

            “But where are you and Papa going?” René asked, holding his stuffed elephant.

            “We’re going out for a bit. We’ll be back before dinnertime.” Enjolras explained.

            “Are you getting stuff?” René inquired further.

            “Maybe.” Grantaire replied with a little wink.  René smiled. Enjolras and Grantaire absolutely loved spoiling René, but were also careful not to give him everything he wanted all the time.  Even so, every time they went out on any sort of date, they always brought a little something back for him.

            “Okay!” René cooed, holding his arms up to Grantaire, who picked him up and gave him a big hug.

            “René, I’m leaving the phone right here on the coffee table.” Enjolras said, placing it down gently so René could reach it.  “If you need anything, you call me, alright?  Do you remember the number?”

            “899-157-1832” he recited.

            “Perfect.” Enjolras smiled, giving René another hug.

            “Can I pick a video?” René asked.

            “Sure. Go for it.” Grantaire smiled. “We’ll see you later, ‘kay Sunshine?” he called after René as he scurried to the TV to choose a DVD. Enjolras smiled, slightly uneasy, and opened the door, struggling to leave, but knowing deep down everything would be alright…probably.

            “I wrote everything down on the counter.  I’d be great if you could call once an hour, just to make sure everything’s going alright! Thank you so much!” Enjolras said.

            “No problem. We’ll have a good time.” Jacques said. Enjolras turned to leave, a bit hesitant, but Grantaire waved him on with a smile.  He stayed behind for a moment and looked his father straight in the eye.

            “You listen to me.” He said, his voice a low growl, his eyes fiery, almost livid. He grabbed his father’s collar, yanking him down closer to eye level—he was a few inches taller than Grantaire. “If you do anything, _anything at all_ , to that little boy, I swear to God you will never see the light of day again.  Do you understand me?”

            “Yes.” Jacques said with a solemn nod.

            “If you even feel the slightest temptation to lay a finger on my kid, you call me. We’ll come home. No big deal.  No hard feelings.  But if you hurt my René, I will pour a kettle of boiling water over your head with no hesitation.” 

            “I understand.” he replied, seeming to flinch when Grantaire mentioned the kettle.

            “Good. We’ll be home by four.” He said, following Enjolras out.

 

 

            “Everything okay?” Enjolras asked when Grantaire met him on the porch.

            “Yup. Just making sure my dad knew what was going on.”

            “Okay.” Enjolras replied with a smile, taking Grantaire’s hand and looking up at him wistfully. “What do we do now?”

            “I think lunch. Then I think the Louvre.”

            “alright.” Enjolras replied with a smile.  Grantaire handed him his red helmet before putting on his own, and gave a little bow, offering his hand to Enjolras to help him up onto the Vespa.  Enjolras took it with a smile, hopping onto the back of the scooter and wrapping his arms around Grantaire when he hopped on in front.

            “This is just like our first date.” Enjolras said, leaning his head against Grantaire’s back, the helmet creating an uncomfortable barrier, but the affection made it through.

            “Except you’re thirty pounds heavier and absolutely beautiful now.” Grantaire replied, kick starting the engine.  Enjolras laughed as they scooted away.

 

—o0o—

 

“Hey René,” Jacques asked from where he sat on the armchair.  René looked over at him from the sofa where he was watching his video—Totoro, again; his new favorite.

            “Hm?” he hummed in reply. Jacques chuckled. Enjolras always did that.

            “Want to build a fort?” The little boy’s eyes lit up.

            “Can we?!” he asked, his cheeks turning a rosy pink.  That was Grantaire coming through.

            “Yeah! Where do you keep the sheets?”

            “In here!” René scurried down the short hallway, and Jacques followed him.  He stopped in front of the linen closet and opened the door, pulling out his favorite sheets: the dark blue ones decorated with smiling stars. Jacques smiled. He had given them to René for his birthday a few years ago, when he first started sleeping in his ‘big boy’ bed.

            “Do you have any of Papa and Daddy’s sheets?  Those will be bigger, right?” He asked, taking the sheets from René.  He nodded, pulling a set of plain white sheets from the middle shelf, standing on his tiptoes to reach.  He carried them into the TV room and dropped them onto the floor, looking up at his Pap with a broad smile.

            “Alright, let’s do this.” Jacques said, looking around the room; studying his supplies. “Want to help me move the sofa?” he asked.  René nodded, hurrying to the opposite side of the couch. “Ready?” he asked. 

            “Mm hm!”

            “Tip it forward!” René did so, and soon, the sofa was resting on its front and its arms, creating a little box, of sorts.

            “Next the futon.” Jacques said, moving to the loveseat, which folded out into the bed Enjolras and Grantaire had been using.  They flipped it the same way as the sofa, and pushed them next to each other. Next was the armchair, and finally the sheet draped over top.  René was delighted.  So was Jacques.

 

—o0o—

 

Grantaire stopped the Vespa in front of Mr. Valjean’s restaurant.  Grantaire held the door for Enjolras, and they were greeted inside by Cosette with a warm smile.  Though she had finished university and was a school psychologist, it was summer, and she was working for her dad as a waitress.

            “Hey you guys! Just you two?  No René?” she asked, walking them to a table.

            “He’s home with his grandfather.” Enjolras smiled.

            “Ooh, a date!” she cooed, seating them by the window and handing them menus. 

            “Do you think René is alright?” Enjolras whispered, taking Grantaire’s hand across the table.

            “Yup. I do.  Call if you want.” He replied with a smile.

            “I’ll ask Jehan to drop by…”

            “Tell him to bring Feuilly.” Grantaire said.  Enjolras frowned.

            “Why?”

            “If anything _is_ going on, Feuilly could handle it better than Jehan.”

            “Do you think something is going on?”

            “No.”

            “So why should I tell Feuilly to go?”

            “Just want to make sure.”

            “Grantaire—”

            “Nothing’s wrong. Don’t worry.  It was just a thought.” Grantaire smiled, pushing a stray curl behind Enjolras’ ear.  Enjolras texted Jehan:

 

Me> 11:32 – Jehan run over and make sure René is ok he’s with Jacques. Just want to make sure.

Jehan> 11:33 – Ok!  Should I stay?

Me> 11:33 – If you want to.  Thanks <3

Jehan> 11:34 – anything Lovely <3

Me> 11:34 – Tell him you’re dropping off something for René.  Say he left something at your house.  Bring anything.  I don’t want him to think we don’t trust him.

Jehan> 11:35 – okay!

 

            “Good?” Grantaire asked. Enjolras nodded.


	13. Chapter 13

Jehan headed up the stairs to Enjolras and Grantaire’s apartment, then knocked on the door politely.  Jacques opened the door with a smile.

            “Hello.” He said, puzzled. He wasn’t well acquainted with Grantaire’s friends.

            “Hi!” Jehan replied shyly, trying very hard to sound brave.  “I’m Jehan Prouvaire.  René left his shoes at my house the other day when I was babysitting.” He held up a pair of René’s little sneakers.  He wasn’t lying, which make him happy.  “I brought flowers, too.” He grinned, blushing.

            “Oh.  Yeah come on in.  I’m Grantaire’s dad, Jacques…I’m today’s babysitter.” Jacques said, holding the door open for Jehan.  René climbed out from his blanket fort and ran to Jehan as he set the small glass vase of flowers onto the counter.

            “Uncle Jehan!” he cooed. Jehan crouched down and gave him a hug.

            “Hello, René! Are you having a fun with your grandpa?”

            “That’s Pap.” René explained.

            “Hello, Pap.” Jehan smiled up at Jacques.  He returned an awkward sort of grin. 

            “What are you playing?” Jehan asked, looking back to René.

            “We’re watching Totoro! And we made a tent!”

            “Wow! Can you show me your fort? Is it cozy inside?”

            “Just the floor.” René explained, meaning there wasn’t anything especially cozy inside; just the hardwood floor.  “But Roux likes to snuggle with me!” he added, picking the cat up under his front legs and showing him to Jehan.  Jacques looked on, his arms crossed, unsure how to behave.  Jehan seemed to get along with René so naturally.  He thought of things Jacques never would have thought to do. He didn’t even think to join René in his fort.  He never babysat as a kid, he had no real experience from caring for Grantaire…He really just wasn’t good at kids.  He was amazed at how Jehan could just jump right into René’s little world and fit right in.

            “I think we need to make this cozier, don’t you?” Jehan said to René, scotching out of the tent and standing, his girlish hands on his skinny hips.  René followed suit, and Roux returned to his nap in a patch of sunlight.

            “Yes!” he agreed.

            “Want help, or…” Jacques asked, feeling terribly inadequate.  René seemed to light up when Jehan came in.  He wished he could have created that same sort of glow.

            “Yes that would be wonderful, thank you!” Jehan cooed.  “Show Pap your cozy things, René.  He’ll help you carry the pillows!” he continued, turning to René.

            “Okay!” René replied, taking his grandfather’s hand and hurrying to his bedroom, tossing pillows and blankets and stuffed animals at Jacques, who, impressively, caught all of them and headed back to the fort.  Jehan giggled as René scurried back, diving under the sheet tent and laying out his blankets.

            “Uncle Jehan can you help me?” René asked, having trouble spreading out his blanket.

            “Sure I can!” Jehan said, crawling under the tent.  “Would you like to come in too, Pap?” Jehan asked with a smile.

            “Oh!  Um…I think I might be too big…” he replied, sitting on the stool at the counter.

            “You’re never too big to have fun.” Jehan replied before retreating into the fort and placing pillows and blankets all around.  Jacques was at a loss, once again.  He decided it would be a good compromise to sit on the floor and look inside, but only felt more put off when he saw Jehan and René giggling inside, playing pretend with René’s numerous stuffed animals, snuggling up in a blanket, though it was summertime. He stood up a moment later and took the phone off the hook in the kitchen, going into the bedroom and dialing Enjolras.

            “Hello?” Enjolras asked.

            “Hey…Enjolras…Your friend is over?”

            “Oh.  Yeah Jehan Prouvaire had to drop by.  René forgot something at his house the other night.”

            “Was he supposed to stick around?”

            “Um…I guess he can…René really loves him.  He’s really sweet.” Enjolras smiled.  Grantaire listened as best he could, concerned.

            “Alright. Just making sure…”

            “Is everything alright?”

            “I’m just…I’m not sure what to do with myself.” He chuckled, though he was a bit hurt.

            “I’m sorry…I’m sure he won’t stay much longer.  Thank you so much!”

            “Yeah. Yeah no problem.” Jacques said, hanging up. Enjolras texted Jehan

 

Enjolras!> 12:54 – hey.  Thanks for going over. Head out, ok?  I don’t want to hurt Jacques’ feelings.

Me> 12:55 – ok!  René is fine with him they made a fort and they’re watching movies!

Enjolras!> 12:55 – ok good.  Thanks <3

 

            “I’m sorry, Jacques, but I’ve got to get back home.  My Feuilly doesn’t like being left without his snuggle buddy for too long.” He smiled.

            “Oh alright.” Jacques replied with a smile.  Enjolras was right! Jehan would leave, and he would be able to spend time with René alone again.  “Nice to meet you.”

            “Nice to meet you too! Bye René Jehan! I’ll see you another time, Lovely!” he called to the baby, who sat quietly under his tent watching Totoro. He smiled and waved to Jehan.

            “Bye!”

            “You have fun with your Pap!”

            “Mm hm!” Jehan left with a wave, and Jacques got down on all fours, crawling next to René and laying on his stomach on the blankets.

            “You like this movie, huh?” he asked.  René nodded, offering Jacques his little bowl of goldfish.

 

—o0o—

 

Enjolras and Grantaire perused the art museum, their hands wound together, Enjolras leaning on Grantaire’s shoulder.

            “I like looking around in here.” Grantaire said.  “It’s always a little different…I always feel like I see something new.”

            “Me too…It’s very romantic…nice and quiet…” he sat down on a bench in front of a marble statue: _Apollo Sauroctonos_.  Grantaire sat next to him and put an arm around his slender shoulders.

            “He looks like you.” Grantaire whispered into his ear, nuzzling it with his nose. Enjolras laughed.

            “He has a much nicer complexion than I do.” He replied.

            “I think you’re prettier, though…His face isn’t as nice as yours.”

            “Let’s find one that looks like you.” Enjolras said with a grin, standing and looking around, leading Grantaire into the next room over, looking at the paintings. Grantaire smiled.

            “None of these are ugly.” He mused.

            “You’re not ugly, so it doesn’t matter.” Enjolras replied. 

            “It’s okay, Enjolras, I know I’m ugly.”

            “I don’t think you’re ugly at all.  You are certainly different, but you’re certainly _not_ ugly.” He said, continuing his search.  After a few minutes of perusing the museum, he stopped and grinned.

            “This one is you.” Enjolras said, stopping in front of a Da Vinci: _St. John the Baptist_.  Grantaire laughed.

            “You really think so, Apollo?

            “I really do! Look!  Look at the hair!  It’s you!”

            “Maybe be in high school! I like to keep myself a little more…groomed than that, now.”  Enjolras chuckled.

            “I’m rubbing off on you, Grantaire!”

            “No you’re not.” He retorted with a grin.

            “I think I am.”

            “I think you’re not.”

            “I love you.”

            “I love you too.” Grantaire gave Enjolras a quick, discreet kiss.

            “I guess we should get back…It’s almost four.” Enjolras said, looking at his watch.

            “Yeah…Make sure everything’s okay.”  He smiled.

            “I had fun.” Enjolras said with a smile, taking Grantaire’s hand.

            “Me too.”

 

—o0o—

 

            “Daddy!” René cooed when Enjolras came through the door, running to him.  Enjolras crouched down and gave René a hug.

            “Hey Sunshine! Did you have fun with Pap?”

            “Mm hm! We made a tent!” he said, pointing to the fort.

            “I see that.” Enjolras chuckled.

            “How’d it go, Dad?” Grantaire asked.

            “Good. We had fun.” He replied with a smile.

            “That’s a nice fort you’ve got there, René.”  Grantaire said with a smile, picking up the little boy and giving him a hug.

            “Mm hm!” he replied. “What’s in the bag?” he asked, his eyes shining with anticipation. 

            “I thought you’d ask that.” Enjolras grinned, handing him the plastic bag from their daytrip. René reached inside and pulled out a smiling fabric doll with red hair and a beard.  He was dressed in a shirt with a plethora of sunflowers and blue and purple swirls.

            “Do you know who that is?” Grantaire asked.  René hugged the soft doll, shaking his head.

            “No who?” he asked.

            “It’s Vincent Van Gogh!” he said with a smile.

            “Is that the one who did the stars and the town one with the curly tree?” René asked, meaning ‘Starry Night’.

            “Yup!” Grantaire replied, ruffling René’s golden curls.

            “You’re my smart little sunshine.” Enjolras said, giving him another hug. 

            “Where’d you get him?” Jacques asked, looking at René fondly, watching him hug his stuffed Van Gogh. It was a pretty art doll, sewn up by hand, his face and beard painted on his canvas body.

            “There was an artist selling stuff in front of the Louvre.” Grantaire said with a smile. He was always buying things from other artists; it made him feel good to know he was helping someone out. He had been in that situation before; standing on the sidewalk, trying to sell paintings to passerby-s.

            “Nice.” Jacques replied with a smile, looking down at René.   The doll was relatively large, and the perfect size for René to hug.

            “Are we gonna have dinner now?” René asked.

            “I think so.” Enjolras replied. “What would you like to have?”

            “Take away!” René cooed.

            “Pizza?” Grantaire asked. They hardly ever had take away food, but pizza was one of Grantaire’s favorites.

            “No noodles.” René replied.

            “Is Chinese okay with you, Jacques?” Enjolras asked.  He shrugged.

            “Sure. Whatever.”

            “Yay!” René cooed.

            “How about we clean up a little bit while we’re waiting, though.” Enjolras suggested.

            “nooo!” René protested. “Papa can’t we sleep in it tonight?” he asked, tapping Grantaire’s arm as he sat on the couch, which he had flipped back over, making one of the walls of the fort droop slightly.

            “Sure!” he smiled, pulling René into his lap, looking to Enjolras with a grin.  Enjolras rolled his eyes in reply, seeing as he was on the telephone ordering take away and couldn’t protest.  René leaned against Grantaire’s chest.

            “Can we watch cartoons?” René mumbled into his Papa’s shirt.

            “How about we read a book instead?”

            “Okay. This one.” He said, leaning over to the basket beside the sofa and pulling out a copy of ‘Where the Wild Things Are’

            “I liked this one when I was little.” Grantaire said with a smile.  “Did you know that?”

            “Nope.” René replied.

            “Pap gave it to me for my fifth birthday.” He continued with a smile.  Jacques smiled.  He may not have been a good parent, but he always made sure he got Grantaire a gift for his birthday.  That was one thing he never failed to do.

            “You gave it to me for my birthday too!  But I’m not five.” René announced with a smile, snuggling up under Grantaire’s arm.

            “‘The night Max made mischief of one kind…And another.  His mother called him “Wild thing!” and Max said “I’ll eat you up!” so he was sent to bed without eating anything.’” Grantaire read, nuzzling his nose into René’s hair. René giggled.

            “Remember when I got in trouble and I didn’t get supper?” René said.

            “Yup. You said you didn’t like what Daddy cooked and that you wanted cookies instead, right?” Grantaire said with a chuckle.

            “Mm hm, but then at night I got hungry so Daddy warmed up supper and I ate it anyway.” He admitted, his face flushing pink.  Jacques laughed.

            Enjolras was not one for picky eating.  He had grown up in a strict household, and he wanted René to grow up happy and well behaved, so he did his best to keep a tight ship running.  Though he was usually lenient with René when it came to little things, like watching more than an hour of cartoons a day, or not cleaning up his room to Enjolras’ standards, There were two things Enjolras absolutely would not stand for; they were: being a picky eater and sleeping in his parent’s bed.  Those were big no-nos. Enjolras was allowed to be a picky eater, and it had lead to an eating disorder.  He and Grantaire spent nearly every waking moment with their little boy, and that was lovely, but their bed was when they got to be alone together, and René was not permitted to compromise that alone time, except under special circumstances. He was allowed to sleep with Enjolras or Grantaire when one of them was away overnight for work, and when he was sick.  Other than that, he was rarely allowed to sleep in their room.

            “But you’ve eaten everything I’ve cooked since then, haven’t you?” Enjolras said, walking up behind the loveseat and draping his arms around Grantaire’s shoulders.

            “Yes!” René cooed. Grantaire smiled as Enjolras lifted up René and hugged him, spinning him around.

            “Are you going to sleep in your fort with Papa tonight?” Enjolras asked.

            “Mm hm!”

            “We better go get your elephant, then.” He replied, carrying René into his bedroom to get his bedtime things, leaving Grantaire alone with his father.

           

            “Dad?” he said. Jacques snapped his attention away from his daydreaming and looked to Grantaire.

            “Yup.” He replied, slightly anxious.  Had he done something wrong?  Did René say something?

            “You did good today…with René, I mean.  He had a good time with you. I’m proud of you.” he smiled. A tear came to Jacques’ eye.

            “Thanks. Thanks, R, that…I’ve wanted to hear that for a while now, but I never thought you’d be proud of me for anything.” He said.  Grantaire stood and extended his arms to his father; something he hadn’t done in his entire life. Jacques looked up at him, momentarily puzzled, before standing and accepting Grantaire’s embrace, returning it ten-fold.  Jacques buried his face in his shoulder, holding him tight, his hand in Grantaire’s ebony curls. Grantaire startled when he felt his father’s chest heave, and was alarmed when he realized he was crying.

            “You okay, Dad?” he asked, trying to pull away, to give Jacques space, but he held tight, and Grantaire did not protest.

            “I love you so much.” He sobbed into Grantaire’s shoulder.  “And I know I was a shit dad and that I should have been killed for what I did to you, and I know you can’t ever love me, but I love you.  I love you.  My little Puppy…You remember I used to call you that?” he said, finally pulling away, looking at Grantaire, smiling though he was in tears.

            “Yeah. You and Mommy used to call me that.” Grantaire said with a little grin.  That little nickname was one of the few happy memories he had from his childhood. 

            “You really are something, Grantaire.  You’ve made something great for yourself here.  You found a great guy, you have a good kid, you’re a good dad.  You did everything I couldn’t do.  I’m so proud of you.  I’m so, so proud of you.”  Grantaire smiled up at his father.

            “Pap look this is Elephant!” René shouted, running out of his bedroom.  Jacques bent down and picked him up, spinning him around.

            “Wow! He’s a cool little elephant!”

            “Elephants are my favorite!” René announced, giggling.  Enjolras smiled from underneath René’s bed comforter, which was piled into his arms.

            “Alright, René. I’ve got to head home now.”

            “No!  Pap you have to stay!” René frowned, making his eyes big and watery. That was another trait inherited from Enjolras.  Both of them could make a killer puppydog face that would make anyone melt.

            “I’m sorry, René, but I’ve got to go back to work tomorrow.”

            “Can me and Papa and Daddy come to your house, then?”

            “Aw, René! My house isn’t big enough for company…But I’ll come for more visits, okay?”

            “Soon.”

            “Yup. Soon.” René smiled and Jacques kissed his cheek before putting him down.

            “See you later, Enjolras. You make sure Grantaire stays out of trouble.” He joked, giving Enjolras a hug.

            “Thanks for coming by.” He replied with a smile.

            “See ya, Dad.” Grantaire said, giving Jacques another hug.

            “Bye, kiddo. See you soon.” He waved as he left, closing the door behind him.

 

—o0o—

 

It was late when Enjolras got out of the shower, but even so, the TV was still on, playing Tintin and Snowy hurrying into the frame.  Enjolras smiled and approached the tent, expecting to find Grantaire and René watching from inside their fort, but what he found instead was perhaps even better. 

            Grantaire was laying on his back, his shirt off, the way he usually slept, and René was in his blue floral pajama bottoms; the ones Jehan had given him.  He was fast asleep on Grantaire’s chest, Grantaire’s arm flopped over, his hand on René’s back, under his t-shirt.  Grantaire had fallen asleep scratching René’s back, and now they were both out cold, Grantaire snoring lightly, René drooling on his Papa’s chest. 

            Enjolras smiled, crouching down and leaning over.  He pressed a kiss to René’s curls, then to Grantaire’s lip, pleasantly surprised when his kiss was returned.  Grantaire smiled, but did not open his eyes.

            “Night, Apollo.” He whispered.

            “Goodnight, Lovey.”

            “Love you.”

            “Love you too.”


	14. Chapter 14

            “Daddy can I wear this one?” René asked, reaching into one of the multitude of cardboard boxes on the grass. All of them contained different colors of tie-dye shirts in every size imaginable. They all read “A Person’s a Person no matter what Identity.”  René was holding up a bright yellow shirt, trying to get Enjolras’ attention as he stacked water bottles onto a folding table, sweating despite the canopy tent he was standing under.

            “Pick whichever one you want, Sunshine.” He replied, looking to René and giving him a quick smile before returning to his water bottles.  Grantaire walked over a moment later with a banner in his hand, and taped it to the front of the table.

            “Doing okay, Apollo?” he asked with a smile, sweat beading on his forehead, making his hair look wet. It was an extremely hot July day, and everyone looked like they had just taken a swim.

            “Yup. Just a little warm.” He replied with a grin.  “Let’s see the poster.” He continued, walking around the table to admire Grantaire’s handiwork. He had designed the posters and banners for the event on Photoshop and sent away to have them printed. Enjolras smiled.

            The poster was eight feet long, and was a beautiful collage of flags in every color and pattern: one for every orientation and identity.  It read the same as the tee shirts.  Below the event’s slogan, information was written in smaller lettering:

 

Support your friends, family, and community!

100% of proceeds go to services for the LGBTQIA+ community and their families.

Paid for Entirely by the Prouvaire Family

Entrance: €10 or any donation

 

            “Grantaire it’s beautiful. You did a beautiful job.” Enjolras said with a smile.  René, too, inspected the banner for a moment before grinning up at Grantaire.

            “I like this one best.” He said, pointing to the pink, yellow, an blue flag in the upper right corner of the poster.

            “That one represents pansexual people.” Enjolras explained.  “That means you love anybody, no matter if they’re a boy or a girl or something else.”

            “I like everyone.” René said with a smile.  Enjolras picked him up and spun him around, giving him a kiss on the nose.

            “I’m glad you like everyone, Sunshine.” He replied, setting René down gently.

            “Oh Lovely it’s perfect!” Jehan cooed, running to Grantaire and giving him a massive hug. “You did a beautiful job! Feuilly look!” he called back to Feuilly, who was walking up with Lyle. 

            “Did you make it, Mr. Grantaire?” Lyle asked with a smile.  He had been living with Jehan and Feuilly for just over a year, and had made great strides in his struggle against crippling depression and anxiety from his abusive childhood.  Jehan and Feuilly adopted him after housing him as foster parents, and all of them were so happy to be together.

            “Well…I put it into the computer and a company printed it out for me, but sort of.” He smiled meekly.

            “It’s really pretty!” Lyle cooed, standing on his toes; a habit he had picked up from Jehan.

            “I’m glad you like it!” Grantaire replied as Lyle gave him a hug.  Though he was only twelve, Lyle was very tall and thin, already the same height as Jehan.  Grantaire returned the embrace.

            “Uncle Jehan get a yellow shirt to match me!” René called, jumping into Jehan’s arms.

            “Okay!” he agreed, heading over to the numerous boxes of tee shirts.

            “Can I get one too?” Lyle asked with a smile.

            “Of course you can! You too, Feuilly!” Grantaire said. Lyle smiled and pulled a purple shirt out for himself.  Feuilly took a bright green one to match his shoes.

            “Did they set up the Ferris wheel yet?” Lyle asked, pulling on his tee shirt over the floral halter-top he was wearing.  “I like those best. I get sick on other rides.” He shrugged shyly.

            “Yup. They set it up last night.” Enjolras said with a grin.  “We got it just for you.”  Lyle blushed.

            “There’s a lot of people here.” Feuilly noted, looking around.  Enjolras was standing under the entrance tent, but beyond the gate, there were rows and rows of tents: all of them offering services, food, art, clothing, and more.  There was even a Ferris wheel set up on Lyle’s request. 

            It was only 8:00 in the morning, but already there were people busy setting up their tents, putting out there wares, hanging posters, and visiting with each other.  It was also terribly hot, but that didn’t seem to deter anyone. Enjolras had arranged for the fairground to turn on a section of the sprinklers as a sort of cool off station, and they were already up and running over in the corner of the field. René had already run through the water numerous times.

            “What time do we open?” Jehan asked with a bright smile.

            “8:30. Almost there!” Enjolras grinned, pushing the hair off his sweaty forehead.

            “Feuilly we have to get the flowers!” Jehan cooed, taking his hand.

            “Can I just drive the truck up here?” he asked Enjolras.

            “Go for it.” He replied with a smile.  Feuilly hurried back to the truck and pulled it up to the tent, the back completely filled with flowers of every color, shape, and size.  The side of the truck had even been painted, ‘Lovely Flowers’ in curling script written on the doors.  Jehan had recently started his own florist shop and greenhouse, and he loved it. He was hoping the flowers at the fund raiser would boost his business.

            “Whoa the truck looks great!” Grantaire smiled.  “You should leave it parked here filled with flowers.”

            “Can we?” Jehan asked, standing on his toes, his eyes bright.

            “Yeah do it!” Grantaire replied.  Enjolras smiled as Feuilly began pulling flowers from the back seat, setting a vase down on the table next to the water bottles Enjolras had set up.  Jehan hurried to the truck and returned with his arms filled with flower garlands.

            “Want to help put them up, Lyle?” he asked.  Lyle nodded and took some of the garlands from Jehan.  Together they started into the rows of tents, asking their owners if they wanted a garland.

            “I want to come too!” René shouted, running after them, picking up the end of a garland Lyle had dropped on the ground.

            “Has business been good, Feuilly?” Enjolras asked, sitting on the folding table.

            “Yeah it’s been awesome. We just got an order for a wedding. We hired Bossuet and Bahorel, too. They’ve both been great. Courfeyrac comes in and helps too, when he can.  Lyle loves it.”

            “Jehan has started home schooling him, right?” Grantaire asked.

            “Sort of…It’s just this year, and it doesn’t really start till fall, but it’s sort of like an exploratory program.  He’s gotten really into plants.  Like, not flowers…More like botany and cross breeding and stuff.  He works in the greenhouse and writes down the stuff he finds out and draws pictures and stuff.  He’s really good.” He smiled.  Feuilly never talked this much, unless he was talking about Jehan or Lyle. He loved them both so dearly, and was so proud of Lyle.  “Oh, like the blue roses here.” He pointed to the vase on the table.  “They’re not dyed.  Lyle figured out how to make them that color.” He smiled.

            “Wow…That’s really amazing.” Enjolras smiled.  “He must be very intelligent.”

            “He is. He passed with high honors last year. Like, I mean, it’s only sixth grade, but he was the top of the class.  He’s really good at math and science.  Writing too.”

            “That’s great! You guys must be so proud of him!” Enjolras smiled.  “René seems like more of a free spirit…I’m not sure how he’ll do in kindergarten this fall…” Enjolras admitted with a little chuckle.

            “Eh, he’ll be fine.” Feuilly smiled.  Grantaire turned to look down the row of tents, where Lyle, Jehan, and René were offering flowers to one of the shopkeepers.  René was hopping up and down, still holding the end  of Lyle’s garland in his little hands.  When the shopkeeper agreed, Lyle and Jehan hug one of the garlands up on the front of the tent.  René did his best to hold the rest of the garlands as they worked.  Grantaire laughed when he dropped them all, becoming tangled in a chain of roses.  He snapped a picture on his phone.

            “Yeah. He’s a good little guy.” He said with a grin.

 

—o0o—

 

Hardly twenty minutes later, the gate was flooded with a plethora of people, all of them waiting to get into the faire, eager to look around. René and Lyle ran up and down the line, Lyle holding a basket of flowers, René passing them out. Most of the people in line were from the local community of LGBTQIA+ people, but many families also attended, many of them with small children who wished to try out the Ferris wheel and eat cotton candy.  There were also a few curious community members, poking around, seeing what was going on. Most everyone knew Enjolras from his other volunteer endeavors, and knew he was very good at fund raising and organizing events.  Anything Enjolras was behind was bound to be not only a good time, but also an opportunity for them to help their community.

 

Courfeyrac and Marius handed out tickets while Feuilly made change. Bahorel and Musichetta gave everyone a stamp—hers a butterfly, his a flower—to everyone admitted.

Combeferre and Joly were both at the health screening tent—one of the larger attractions—and were giving free chuck ups to anyone in need. Joly, as a pediatrician, also offered council to parents with LGBTQIA children and teenagers, instructing them on how to approach the subject and how to treat them appropriately when it came to doctors and other healthcare situations. 

Jehan and Bossuet sat in Jehan’s small flower tent, offering business cards and selling everything from flower crowns with ribbons to home-made fairy wings to magic wands to traditional bouquets.  Bossuet and Jehan both wore fairy wings, just for fun, much to the delight of passing little kids.

Cosette was with Eponine, both of them serving coffee, cookies, and other treats at the Musain’s tent.

 

René and Lyle had been walking up and down the line happily for some time when a woman stopped them.

            “Are you Enjolras’ little boy?” she asked René.  He nodded.

            “Mm hm, and my Papa’s name is Grantaire.” He explained.  Lyle giggled.

            “You look just like your daddy!” she said with a smile.  “I come to all of his fund raisers, and I talk to him every time, but I’ve never gotten to speak with you before!  How old are you?” she asked.

            “Five.” René replied proudly, holding up five fingers: three on one hand, two on the other.

            “Are you his friend?” she asked Lyle.  He nodded shyly with a blush. “And what’s your name?”

            “Lyle.” He replied quietly.

            “You were on the news over the winter.” A man said from just behind the woman in line.

            “How are you doing? You look very well!” another man asked, the first man’s partner.  He bounced a baby in his arms.

            “Yes. I’m much better now. Thank you.” He smiled.

            “Good to hear.” He grinned.

            “Want flowers?” René cooed, offering a rose to the woman and two Gerber daisies to the men.

            “Oh thank you sweetie!” she replied, taking the rose carefully.  The men did the same.  René gave a little hop, smiling broadly.  They moved on down the line.

            Towards the end, near the parking lot, there was a person who was quite obviously a biological male, but was in a billowy sundress, wearing their hair long.  They had a beautiful, dark complexion, and their hair was tied back into two French braids.  Lyle smiled up at them.

            “Would you like a flower?” he asked meekly, but with a smile.

            “Oh sure!” they replied.

            “Do you want a rose or a daisy or one of these or these…” René listed, looking through the plethora of flowers in the basket.  He only knew the names of the roses and daisies.

            “I like the purple iris flower. Could I have that one?” they asked with a smile.  René looked to Lyle with wide, questioning eyes. 

            “What one is that?” he asked quietly.  Lyle chuckled and pointed to the large purple iris, and René handed it to them with a smile.

            “Thank you!” they replied.

            “Hey mister how come you’ve got a dress?” René asked, only curious, not rude in the least.

            “I like wearing dresses sometimes.” They said with a little laugh.  “Actually, I like ‘miss.’ Much better than ‘mister’.” She explained with a smile.

            “Oh okay! I like your dress, Miss!” René cooed. Her smile widened.

            “You’re very sweet! What’s your name?” she asked.

            “René!” he replied with a little hop. “What’s your name?”

            “I’m Adalyn.” She replied.

            “I like that name.” Lyle replied.  “Is it with a ‘y’ in it?” he asked.

            “It is!” she grinned.

            “Your hair is nice.” René noted, his blue eyes reflecting the sky.

            “Thank you! I like your hair too, René.” She said. René smiled, giddy, and put his little hands in his curls.  “And you’re his brother?  Or sister?” she asked Lyle.

            “I’m sort of his cousin. I’m Lyle.” He replied. “I’m a boy but I like girl clothes, I guess…” he explained meekly with a little flinch, thinking of his father. The woman seemed to notice his slight discomfort.

            “Well you look very nice today.” She said.  “Especially your shoes.” Lyle looked down to his robin’s-egg-blue Chuck Taylors: his favorite pair. He smiled.

            “Thanks!”

            “Have fun okay?!” René said as he and Lyle began moving down the line.  The woman smiled.

 

—o0o—

 

Enjolras grabbed a chair and sat down next to Marius at the ticket tent, seeming out of breath and slightly flustered—but also very happy.

            “What ticket number are we at?” he asked.

            “Well, it’s 9:30 now, and we’re at ticket 204, but the line is so long!” Marius replied, looking at the roll of tickets.  He handed one to a man. “There goes 205!” he added. Enjolras smiled.

            “This is one of the most successful events I’ve ever had.” He grinned, looking up when the woman in the billowy dress stepped up to the ticket counter.

            “Thank you!” she said, handing Courfeyrac €20.  “Keep the change.” She added, twirling the iris René had given her in her hands. She stepped to the side of the tent, allowing the line to continue, but gave Enjolras a light tap on the shoulder. He looked up with a smile.

            “Thanks for coming!” he said, standing and offering the woman his hand.  She shook it, her shake very strong and professional. Enjolras immediately liked her. He valued a good firm handshake.

            “You’re René’s father, right?” she asked.

            “I am.” Enjolras replied with a smile, though he was slightly uneasy.  Had René gotten himself into trouble?

            “He is such a sweet little boy.” She said.  Enjolras’ smile widened.

            “I’m so happy you think so! He was so excited to hand out flowers.” He said.

            “You have raised him so well. He asked me why I was wearing a dress, considering I am still a biological male…” she said with a small shrug. Enjolras nodded. “But when I explained to him, he immediately smiled and told me he liked my dress!  I was so impressed!” 

            “Aw!  That’s great!  I’m proud of him.  Thank you for being so kind. I’m sorry he mistook your gender—”

            “Oh not at all. He’s so sweet. And the other boy he was with, Lyle, he’s lovely as well.  Please pass that along to his parents.” She smiled.

            “Head over to Lovely Flowers and tell him yourself!  Jehan is his father, he’s working the tent.  Or Feuilly. He’s probably poking around there too.”

            “I will. I will right now! Thank you so much! I’m so glad for this event. This is helping a lot of people.” Enjolras smiled as she walked away, straight towards Jehan’s tent.

 

—o0o—

 

When she reached the flower tent, she immediately smiled.

            “Hello, Lovely!” Jehan cooed, standing and offering her his hand.  Adalyn’s smooth, dark skin contrasted greatly with Jehan’s pale boney fingers.  It was like Adalyn’s hand was wearing a thin white dress.

            “Can we get you any flowers? Or a magic wand?” Bossuet grinned jokingly.  “We have fairy wings too. Jehan made them.” He smiled up at Jehan.

            “You can do a lot of things with old colored stockings and coat hangers.” He smiled.

            “You’re Jehan?” she asked. He nodded.

            “That’s me!”

            “You’re Lyle’s father?”

            “I am! Well, I mean…I adopted him. He’s too tall to be really mine! Isn’t he lovely? He’s so willowy and graceful…” Jehan mused.  He loved Lyle with all his heart, and he couldn’t help but brag about him every now and then. Adalyn smiled.

            “He is. He’s a lovely little boy. I actually came to thank you! He and the other boy, René, they were so sweet to me while I was waiting in line!  So polite and understanding!  Thank you so much.”

            “Oh I’m so glad! Thanks for coming over to tell me, Lovely!” he scurried around the table where he was sitting and gave Adalyn the biggest hug he could muster.  “You’re wonderful!” She picked up one of Jehan’s business cards.

            “Prouvaire…” she read. “You funded this!”

            “I did! It’s mostly for Lyle…I just want him to know he isn’t alone…He’s so sweet, but he gets so nervous. I just want to help other people like him.”

            “Thank you so much. You’re really helping so, so many people.  This is amazing.” She said.

            “Oh you’re too lovely!” he replied, reaching back behind the table and taking a purple flower crown from where they hung on the wall of the tent.  “Have a tiara.  On the house.” He grinned. “It matches your dress very nicely.”

            “Thank you, Mr. Prouvaire! These are beautiful! Did you make them all?”

            “My husband Feuilly and Bossuet help too.  And Bahorel. He’s giving stamps at the gate.” Jehan smiled.  “Lyle grew most of the flowers on that one.  He figured out how to make almost any type of flower purple!”

            “He’s a very kind little boy.” She replied.  “Thank you again!”

            “Bye!” Jehan cooed as she continued past their tent.  Bossuet waved. “I love it when people are kind to each other.” He said, sitting down next to Bossuet again, resting his head on his shoulder, Bossuet laughed.

            “Always better to be nice than to be nasty.” He agreed.  He glanced across the way to where Joly was sitting at the front of the medical tent, and stuck his tongue out.  Joly did the same in reply. “Joly’s such a dork. I love him.”

            “You need to get married.” Jehan replied, attaching flowers to another tiara.  Bossuet chuckled.

 

 


	15. Chapter 15

At around noon, Enjolras told Combeferre and Marius to take a break from selling tickets. The line had shortened considerably, and Enjolras was handling it well on his own.  He smiled, watching as René and Lyle scurried up and down the line, still giving flowers.  Occasionally, one of them would run back to Jehan’s tent to re-stock their basket. The crowd seemed to enjoy their antics, and many of them stopped the boys to talk to them.

            Enjolras thumbed through the remaining tickets, counting them, though they were already numbered. There was a lull in activity, and he really didn’t have much else to do.  René and Lyle had stopped passing out flowers for lunch, and were sitting on the grass with their basket of flowers, waiting eagerly for the next wave of people. Enjolras smiled. So many people had told him how sweet Lyle and René were.  He was glad so many people thought so highly of his little boy.

            He had just finished counting the remaining tickets when he heard René and Lyle say hello to someone coming to the fairground.  Enjolras looked up with a smile, watching as René and Lyle hurried up to a lone man. He gave the boys a wave as they approached, but returned his hand to the pocket of his torn jeans shortly. His shoulders were bowed forward—terrible posture—and he was wearing a floppy knit hat.  He seemed more and more apprehensive the closer he got to the table, and was relieved when Lyle stopped him and asked him if he wanted a flower. He politely refused and sighed before gathering enough courage to approach Enjolras, his head down.

            “Hello! Would you like a ti—” Enjolras stopped short when the young man looked up at him, his chin stubbly, his hair a mess under his hat.  He looked like he hadn’t slept in days…And Enjolras recognized him.  “Montparnasse?” he asked, standing and furrowing his eyebrows.

            Montparnasse and his friends had made high school a living hell for Jehan.  Almost every day, he would berate Jehan on what he was wearing, or knock his notebooks out of his arms.  He would pull the flowers out of his hair and step on them, take Jehan’s private poetry and read it out loud to the cafeteria.  Jehan was far too shy then to stand up for himself, and certainly couldn’t go to any authority, so he continued to suffer in relative silence, confiding in Enjolras, spending most of his free time in the bathroom, crying.  Enjolras had tried to get Montparnasse to stop.  He had talked to him, begged him, threatened, bribed, but he wouldn’t let up, and soon, he began targeting Enjolras as well, telling the whole school he was too pretentious to even look at anyone besides himself in the mirror, that he was spoiled, that he was secretly dating Jehan.  All untrue, of course, but Enjolras could handle it.  He ignored him.  Jehan was different. Jehan took everything Montparnasse said to heart. 

            Over those four years, Enjolras had grown to hate Montparnasse.  He was glad when high school was over; he and Jehan were both finally rid of him and his gang of cronies.  But now here he was, after nearly ten years, right in front of him, looking completely run down and generally unwell.  Enjolras couldn’t help but think how wonderful karma was.

            “Hey.” Montparnasse said quietly, his eyes watery and red.  Enjolras smelled whisky on his breath.

            “Please leave. You’re drunk.  I’ll call you a cab—”

            “No.  Enjolras please.  I need help.” He pleaded.  “I’m not drunk, I’m sorry I just…” he sighed.  “Please just listen.”

            “If you’re here to be cruel to me or any of the people here, I’m—”

            “I’m not. I swear I’m not. I’m in a hard spot, and I…I don’t have anywhere else to go.” He explained, pausing for a moment before sighing heavily.  “I’m sorry. Never mind.  You have no reason to help me.  I don’t deserve your help.  I’m such an asshole…” he mumbled to himself.  Enjolras grabbed his shoulder as he turned to leave.

            “What do you need?” he asked with a small smile.  He didn’t have it in his heart to let him go, especially when he was obviously in need. “Sit.” He continued, offering him a folding chair at the table and a water bottle.  He took it gratefully.

            “I, uh…You remember Brujon, right?” Enjolras nodded; Brujon was one of Montparnasse’s awful friends. “We were living together in an apartment and, uh…we did some bad shit, but anyway, I was really close with him, you know?  So I told him, and—”

            “Told him what?” Enjolras asked, misunderstanding.  “Baby go with Lyle to Jehan for a minute.  Bring me back a flower!” Enjolras called over Montparnasse’s shoulder when he saw René and Lyle coming to investigate.  Lyle understood their need for privacy and took René’s hand, leading him away with a smile.

            “Are those your kids?” Montparnasse asked, looking over his shoulder to the boys.

            “Oh!  René, the blonde one, he’s mine.  The other boy is his Jehan Prouvaire’s son, Lyle.”

            “Good. Good for you.” he smiled genuinely. “Who’d you wind up marrying? Anyone from school?”

            “We met in college, but I can tell you later.  Tell me what going on. What do you need me to do for you? What were you saying before?”

            “Oh right, I uh…I was such an asshole to you and Prouvaire…I’m sorry…I’m sorry…I just…I-I’m gay.” He admitted with some difficulty.  Enjolras finally understood why Montparnasse had been so terrible to Jehan. He was afraid. He was just looking out for himself; the only way he knew how.

            “Oh.” Enjolras replied. “Alright.” He waited for Montparnasse to continue.

            “And I came out to Brujon the other night, and…and…I—God I loved him.  I loved him…”

            “Brujon?” Enjolras asked, seeing tears come to the other man’s eyes.  Enjolras offered him a napkin from his pocket. It wasn’t a tissue, but it was better than nothing.  Montparnasse nodded, trying his hardest to stay quiet, not to sob aloud.  He rested his elbow on his knee and covered his face with his hands.  Enjolras placed a comforting hand on his shoulder and rubbed in little circles—how Grantaire always did when he or René was upset.  “I’m sorry.” Enjolras said, suddenly feeling very sorry for him.  Yes, Montparnasse had been cruel, but he now knew there was a reason, and Montparnasse didn’t deserve what had obviously happened to him. Rejection is difficult for anyone, but it is especially difficult when not only you’re affections are rejected, but your way of life as well.

            “He beat the shit out of me!” Montparnasse continued, pulling up the arm of his flannel shirt, showing Enjolras the bruises there.  His eye was black as well, but Enjolras expected he didn’t know it, for he didn’t mention that.  “So I left, and…I don’t have a job, I don’t have family around…I have no money, it’s all at the house with Brujon and he won’t let me back.  It’s all fucking cash from selling drugs.  I’m such a fuck up, Enjolras…”

            “Where have you been staying? A shelter?” Enjolras asked. He knew homeless shelters weren’t the safest places, and were often overcrowded.

            “Nowhere. I slept on the metro the past three nights and just…wandered around all day…Someone gave me a sandwich, but that’s all I’ve eaten…I don’t have anything.  I’m gross, I’m disgusting.  I just…you know about this stuff.  Is there some sort of charity place I can go to?  Anywhere…I have literally nothing.” He scratched at the scruff on his chin.

            “One minute.” Enjolras stood up, seeing René and Lyle on their way back.

            “Sunshine, could you go Miss. Cosette and tell her to make a sandwich for my friend?” he called.

            “Okay!” René shouted back, scurrying off in the direction of the Musain’s tent, followed quickly by Lyle.

            “He’s a good kid?” Montparnasse asked, watching René, a sort of longing and regret evident in his eyes. He wanted to badly to be happy. He wanted a family, a kid, a life. But what did he have? Nothing.  Nothing but a criminal history and the cheep wristwatch he was wearing.

            “He’s wonderful.” Enjolras smiled, thinking of the little boy fondly.  “His name is René.”

            “He looks just like you. He’s got your face. And your hair.” Enjolras nodded as René ran up with a plate containing a sandwich and a pile of potato chips.

            “Here Daddy!” he cooed, handing the paper dish to Enjolras, who took it with a smile and passed it to Montparnasse. He kissed René’s curls.

            “Thank you, Sunshine.” He gave him a hug before sitting him on his knee.  “René this is Mr. Montparnasse.  He’s an old friend of mine.”  René gave a little wave from Enjolras’ knee, his curls bobbing as Enjolras bounced him up and down.

            “Hi!” he smiled, his eyes bright.

            “Hey René!” he replied softly

            “I like your hat!” he said. Enjolras kissed his head again, their curls seeming to become one.  Montparnasse chuckled.

            “Thanks.” He replied with a grin.

            “Montparnasse, please excuse me for just a second.  I have to make a quick phone call.  I’ll be back in just a second.” Enjolras smiled.

            “Go for it. Thank you so much.” Enjolras dialed his phone and walked away, out of earshot, but watching as René spoke with Montparnasse.

            “I went to school with your daddy.” He explained.  René kicked his feet, his Merrell shoes hitting the legs of the folding chair.

            “I get to go to kindergarten soon!” René replied.  He was very excited to start at the ‘big kid’ school and get his own backpack and lunchbox; things he hadn’t needed at preschool.  He knew his entire alphabet and how to write all of the letters. He could spell his name, as well as ‘daddy,’ ‘papa’, ‘Jehan’, ‘Marius’, ‘Cosette’, ‘Feuilly’, and ‘Joly’. He was working hard to learn everyone else’s names.  

            “Wow that’s great!” Montparnasse said with a grin.  Despite his tough-as-nails façade, Montparnasse really had a soft spot for kids. “How old are you, René?” he asked.

            “Five!” René said, pulling his legs up and sitting on his knees in the chair.  He was very proud to be a five year old.  His Papa said that once you’re five, you’re officially a ‘big kid’, which meant he moved from car seat to booster seat, AND that he could bring a cup of water into the TV room without a Sippy lid.

            “So awesome. Do you know when your birthday is?” he asked.

            “March um…10th!” he said after thinking for a moment.  It was tough to remember his birthday.  There were so many days in a year!  It was hard to remember just one day!  “When’s your birthday?” he asked.  Montparnasse laughed.

            “October 31st. That’s Halloween.” He smiled.

            “I like Halloween!” he explained, very excited.  I was Frodo, and Lyle was Sam, and Daddy was Legolas and Papa was Aragorn and Uncle Jehan was…um…Arwen, and Uncle Feuilly got a skateboard and a big black cape and was a ring wraith.  Oh! And Marius was Elrond and Miss Cosette was Galadriel and…and…um…Bossuet was Gollum because he’s bald and Joly was Boromir! Courfeyrac and Combeferre came but I don’t remember what they were…but we were the Lord of the Rings!” he smiled.

Grantaire had adored the books as a kid, and read them to René that past summer.  Though he was a bit dreamy, and was often ‘zoning out’, René was very smart, and followed the stories with little trouble.  Grantaire was impressed, and decided they should get as many people together as they could and go as the Fellowship for Halloween.  It got a little out of hand, and soon they had the majority of the main characters. They all paraded around town as René and Lyle Trick-Or-Treated.

            Montparnasse laughed for a while after that, getting a kick out of the costume idea.

            “What other costumes have you had, René?  Do you remember?” he asked. René nodded.

            “Mm hm! Before that, I was Hermes, and Daddy was Apollo, and Papa was Dionysus and we were GREEK!” He grinned. Most costumes had some sort of inside joke behind them as well.  When they had met in high school, Grantaire had taken to calling Enjolras ‘Apollo’. The name stuck, but Enjolras didn’t always like it.  When Enjolras caught wind of the nickname, he started calling Grantaire Dionysus, which cut deep due to his drinking problem.  But after getting married, the names became terms of endearment, and a good Halloween costume.  René chose Hermes because he wanted Grantaire to put big golden wings on his high tops. He carried around a mailbag, too. It was a hit for everyone. Enjolras always made sure their Halloween costumes were the talk of the town. 

            “I was Spiderman for Halloween once.  And The Flash.  I like super heroes. I might have been Thor once too.” He smiled.

            “I like Thor!  He has a hammer!” René replied with a grin.  Montparnasse chuckled again.

            “You’re a funny little guy, René.” He smiled.

            “I like it when people laugh!  Sometimes I don’t know why though.” He admitted, his freckly cheeks turning pink.

            “That’s okay.  It’s good to make people laugh.” Montparnasse replied. 

            Enjolras hung up the phone and picked up René, sitting down again and placing the baby on his lap.

            “Montparnasse, since you have nowhere to go, my husband Grantaire and I have agreed that the only solution is to have you come and stay with us until you get back on your feet.  My landlord agreed, as long as you stay for under a month.  Fair?”

            “Are you serious?” Montparnasse asked, in awe.  He had come to ask advice, and had instead gotten a home—even if it was only temporary. 

            “I am. We have a pull out sofa and plenty of space.” He smiled.  Montparnasse leapt up and hugged Enjolras, startling him slightly.  But he did return the embrace.

            “I will get a job, and I will pay you back.  I promise.  I swear. Oh my God thank you so much!”

            “Sleepover!” René cooed.  Montparnasse smiled.

 

 

 

 

 

 

~This chapter has lots of stuff from the sort of high school stuffs I posted in another story. You don't really have to read it, but this might make a tiny bit more sense if you do! You can find those on my profile! I believe it's just called 'prom', seeing as it centers around the week of Enjolras' junior prom. Thanks for reading! Yay two chapters in one day!


	16. Chapter 16

Enjolras sat at the counter, answering emails on his laptop, as he spent most early mornings.  He was still in his pajamas: green flannel pants Grantaire had given to him, and a tee shirt that was four sizes too big. His hair was piled on top of his head in a crazy messy bun.  He tapped away, replying to all of his messages, most of them thanking him for the fundraiser. A few were actual ‘work’ emails. He skipped those for now. It was Sunday. He didn’t want to work on Sunday.

            He had been up since about 5:30, though it was the weekend. He couldn’t bear leaving so many unanswered messages.  Just opening his laptop put him on edge, when he saw that stupid red box pop up next to his email icon. It drove him crazy.

            What also drove him crazy was the excessive squeaking coming from the old futon Montparnasse was sleeping on.  That’s what woke him up in the first place.  Every time he moved, the bed squeaked, and every time the bed squeaked, Enjolras sighed heavily.  Never in his life had he known someone who moved so much when they slept. Even Grantaire, who tended to thrash in his sleep, didn’t make that much noise.  Even René, who dreamed quite actively, didn’t make such a racket. He couldn’t stand it, and finally closed his laptop and stood up, putting on a pot of water for his morning tea. The second he did, Montparnasse’s hand reached up in a stretch, and he gave a sort of groan before letting his arm flop down again.

            “Guess I have to actually get up now.” He said, sitting up in bed. “You making coffee?” he asked.

            “I wasn’t…” Enjolras replied, slightly annoyed, “But I can. How do you take it?”

            “It’s alright.  I’ll do it.” He smiled, standing.  Enjolras smiled. Maybe he wasn’t so horribly annoying after all—

            He was stark naked.  Enjolras slapped his hand over his eyes and quickly turned back to face the stove.

            “Do you have anything to wear?” he asked in a panic.

            “Oh! Sorry!  I didn’t even think.  I don’t usually—”

            “Do you have anything to wear?” Enjolras asked again.

            “Yeah! Yeah sorry!” he pulled on his pants, the only pair he had, and smiled awkwardly.  “Kay I’m good.” Enjolras nodded and turned to face him again.

            “Good morning, Montparnasse.” He said, attempting to start their day over.

            “Morning.” He said with a small smile in reply.  Enjolras looked him up and down.  Though he hated to admit it, that kid who made his high school life miserable had become a very attractive man.  His face, though covered in stubble and a black eye, was well defined, his jaw wide and sharp, his nose thin and pronounced. Montparnasse was also in impeccable shape.  His arms were muscular and his back was corded.  But what really caught Enjolras off guard was his chest and abdominals. He looked like a Michelangelo. The only difference was his scarred his swarthy skin.  Actually, that scar on his shoulder looked oddly like a bullet wound.

            “You okay, Apollo?” Grantaire asked, walking in from the hallway, wrapping his arms around Enjolras, who jumped, shaking himself out of his trance-like stare.

            “Yes! Yeah I’m fine.” He stammered, standing on his toes and giving Grantaire a kiss.

            “Okay.” Grantaire replied, turning around and giving Montparnasse a warning sort of look before starting up the coffee machine.  Montparnasse sat down on the sofa again an shrugged.

            “René is going to Jehan’s today.” Enjolras said, sitting at the counter with his cup of tea.

            “To the house or the flower shop?” Grantaire asked.

            “The shop.  He said Lyle wants to show René his flowers.”

            “I go to Uncle Jehan’s now?” René asked as he walked down the hallway, rubbing his eyes with his fisted hands.

            “Not now, baby!  It’s too early.” Enjolras explained, picking up the baby and sitting him down at the table. “Breakfast first.” He smiled.

            “Pop Tarts?” he asked.

            “Pop Tarts are not a healthy breakfast.  You can have a Pop Tart later for a snack.” Enjolras explained. René nodded, his eyes hanging half open, groggy. 

            “Yogurt?” he asked.  Enjolras nodded.

            “That’s a good breakfast.” He replied, handing René a little container of his blueberry yogurt and a little bowl of granola.  René dumped the container into the bowl, then stirred it all up with a smile.  He found great joy in stirring things, and even more joy in eating things that he had stirred. It gave him a sense of satisfaction, and Enjolras loved to see his smile. 

            Grantaire poured a cup of coffee for himself, and another for Montparnasse, handing it to him over the back of the sofa.

            “Thanks.” He said with a smile, turning around and leaning on the backrest, looking over the couch into the kitchen.  He watched René with a smile.  Grantaire eyed him suspiciously.

 

—o0o—

 

Grantaire left at around 10:00 to bring René to Jehan’s, leaving Enjolras alone with Montparnasse. Enjolras had needed to reassure him that everything was fine, that he had simply zoned out earlier that morning, and it was nothing for him to worry about, and after quite a bit of convincing, he agreed; Enjolras sent him off with a kiss.

            After making another cup of tea, Enjolras sat down on the ataman in the TV room, still in his pajamas.  He sipped from his massive mug—one with René’s handprints on the sides—and closed his eyes, sleepy.  He always took a day just to relax after big events and fund raisers.  It wore him out, and he needed time to recover.

            Montparnasse sat on the sofa idly, flipping channels on the TV for some time, until sighing heavily and turning it off altogether.  He turned to Enjolras and ran a hand through his thick, dark hair.

            “How long have you been married?” he asked.  Enjolras looked up from his cup of tea.

            “It’ll be six years next month.” He explained.

            “Nice…” he replied, looking down at his knees.  “I always wanted to get married, but…I guess I never found the person, you know?”  Enjolras nodded.

            “It’s great, being with someone…But I guess it’s not for everyone.”

            “Guess so…I thought for sure you and Jean Prouvaire would wind up together.” Enjolras smiled.

            “I love Jehan with all my heart, but…not in the same way as Grantaire. I don’t know.  I feel like Jehan is my little brother or my cousin or something. I’m so close with him, it’d be like being with my family.”

            “That’s how I was with Babet for a while.  We hung out all the time, we lived together for a while…” Montparnasse said, trailing off.

            “Why did you leave, then?  Why didn’t you go back with Babet after everything with Brujon?” Enjolras asked, hoping he wasn’t prying.  He really was just curious.

            “He, uh…He was in the military for a while, and he was taken prisoner for a while…They fucked him up pretty badly—rape and everything—and…He lives with his parents, now.  He can’t really…function, I guess.”

            “Oh. Oh I’m sorry.” Enjolras said, looking down.  He was never sure what to say in situations like that. 

            “Eh…Shit happens, I guess…He has bad PTSD…I still see him sometimes, but he’s messed up.”

            “I can’t even imagine that…It must have been terrible.” Montparnasse shrugged.

            “You, uh…You look good.  You gained weight since high school.” He said.  Enjolras looked down to his lap…Was it that obvious that he gained weight? His thighs were sort of thick…

            “Yeah.” He said simply.

            “You used to be crazy thin.  Like, model thin.” Montparnasse continued with a smile, thinking he was being polite and offering a compliment, but Enjolras thought differently. He felt the ember of an old, deadly fire spark up inside him, and he suddenly felt heavy—like all of his extremities were made of lead.  He wanted to crawl back into bed…He wanted to feel light again.

            “I’m not sure if you knew this, Montparnasse, but I was extremely ill in high school.  I nearly died of anorexia.” Montparnasse’s eyes widened.

            “Oh God I’m sorry.  I’m such an idiot…”

            “It’s okay.  Just…don’t…talk about it. That’d be great.”

            “Yeah sure.  No problem. Hey, uh…do you mind if I borrow clothes? I don’t have anything except this, and I have to wash it at some point…”

            “Oh! Oh yeah.  Um…You know what, you’re taller than me but not as big as Grantaire…Just…here, take a few euros and get yourself clothes, alright?” Enjolras smiled, handing Montparnasse €200.

            “I can’t.  I can’t take this.” He tried to hand the money back, but Enjolras insisted.

            “It’s alright.  Don’t worry about it.”

            “I’ll pay you back—”

            “Don’t worry.  Just take it. Get what you need.”

            “Thank you.  Seriously, I am so grateful.” He smiled, standing and sliding into his shoes.  “I’ll be back soon, I’ll just walk down to the shops quick and come right back, alright?”

            “It’s alright!  Just go! Have fun!  Be responsible.” Enjolras said with a little grin. Montparnasse chuckled.

            “I will, Dad.” He said as he left the house.  The moment he did, Enjolras flopped down on the sofa. He pulled his hair out of its messy bun and ran his hand through the curls.  He remembered how his hair fell out when he was sick…He remembered how it lost its shine as he lost weight.  He remembered how oddly satisfying it felt when he skipped a meal…How accomplished he felt when he lost.

            He found himself wandering towards the bathroom, his shirt pulled up, looking down at himself, pinching at the fat around his midsection. He pulled his hair up again, feeling tears well behind his eyes.  He hadn’t done this in almost eight years.  Why was he doing this?!

            _Enjolras.  Stop it.  You don’t need to do this.  Not again._ He told himself.

            _Don’t let René see you like this. Don’t let your baby boy see his daddy like this…_

He knelt down on the cold floor, the icy tile disgustingly familiar on his knees. 

            _Stop it.  Stop it.  You promised Grantaire.  Are you seriously going to let asshole Montparnasse make you sick again?_

_Yes_

He cringed.  He hadn’t heard that thick, repulsive, tempting voice in so long…yet here it was, just as strong as ever.

 

_Your little boy doesn’t deserve a fatass father.  Grantaire doesn’t want a fat husband.  Remember how beautiful you used to be?  So thin and light…_

 

He reached his long, elegant fingers down his throat, his hand remembering immediately the easiest, fastest way to make himself vomit.  He gagged, then flushed breakfast down the toilet. 

            Tears cascaded down his colorless cheeks as he sat on his legs, kneeling, his head in the toilet.  He gagged himself again—

            “Enjolras!” Grantaire said, grabbing Enjolras’ wrists from behind, pulling him up and away from the toilet.  Enjolras didn’t struggle.  He let himself fall limply into Grantaire, sobbing. 

            “What happened?” Grantaire asked, panicked.  “You haven’t done this in years.”

            “I’m sorry.” Enjolras sobbed.  “I’m sorry, Grantaire.  I’m so sorry…”

            “Shh…It’s alright…It’s okay…Do you need me to take you to the hospital? Are you having a panic attack?”

            “No. No, no I’m fine…I’m sorry…René—”

            “He’s with Jehan.  He’s okay. He’ll never know.”

            “I’m a terrible father…”

            “No you’re not.  Come here.” He reached down and lifted Enjolras, holding him bridal style, and sitting him down on their bed.  He kissed his nose, moving down to his jaw, his chin, his collarbone.  “I love you.”

            “I love you too…”

            “What happened?  What started this? You haven’t done this since college.”

            “I know…I know, I just…Montparnasse—”

            “Did he do this?” Grantaire asked, suddenly angered.

            “No. It’s not him, it’s me, I—”

            “I saw him looking at you this morning, Enjolras.  And you were looking right back.  Is something going on?  Is he setting you off or something?”

            “No, Grantaire.  I just…Okay, I’m just going to be honest.  I didn’t expect him to…I wasn’t expecting to see him like that.  I’m a human…I stare…Like anyone else.  But I love you.  I will always love you.  He didn’t do anything wrong, we were just talking about high school, and he said I gained a little weight, and…and I just…” he covered his face in his hands, crying again. Grantaire rubbed his back.

            “I’m sorry.  I shouldn’t have gotten mad like that…It’s okay.  I just get a little nervous, you know.” He smiled lightly.  “I get worried you’ll find someone better than me.  It wouldn’t be that hard.” He grinned.  Enjolras brought his hand up to Grantaire’s cheek and held it there for a long moment.

            “Never. There is nobody better than you.” Grantaire smiled, placing his hand on top of Enjolras’ and holding it.

 

 

 

~Oh no!  What's happening?!  Bad things?!  NNNOOOOOOOO!!!!!  
  
Oh yessss.  
  
I'm a terrible person.  But don't worry.  Things will be okay, I think. ;) <3


	17. Chapter 17

“Me and Lyle watered all the flowers!” René cooed as he walked through the apartment door with Grantaire. 

            “Good job, Sunshine!” Grantaire applauded him with a smile.

            “Did you have fun, Baby?” Enjolras asked, sitting on the sofa with a glass of ginger ale.  His stomach hadn’t taken his binge lightly, and he was feeling rather ill.

            “Mm hm!”  How come you have sick soda, Daddy?” he asked, hopping up onto the couch next to Enjolras, who hadn’t gotten out of his pajamas all day.  René sat in his lap and gave him a hug.  “Don’t feel good?”

            “I have a little tummy ache.  Don’t worry, little Love, I’m alright.”  He smiled and kissed René’s nose, then his golden curls.  “I love you.”

            “Love you too, Daddy.  Where’s Mr. Montparnasse?” he asked.

            “He’s taking a shower.” Enjolras replied.

            “Daddy can we go for a walk?”

            “Hey, René, leave Daddy alone.  He isn’t feeling very well—”

            “No it’s alright.” Enjolras said, sitting up with a smile. “Just let me get dressed, then we’ll go, alright?”

            “Can we bring roller skates?”

            “Sure.” He stood up and headed into the bedroom, returning a moment later in a pair of shorts and a tee shirt.  “Come on. We’ll put roller skates on once we’re down on the porch.” He smiled, carrying René’s little roller skates and his much larger roller blades, holding the door for the little boy. He smiled at Grantaire as he went.

            “You sure you’re okay?” Grantaire asked.

            “I’m going to have an upset stomach whether I’m here or roller skating, so I might as well have fun.  I have my phone. I’ll be fine.”

            “Call me okay?”

            “Promise.”

            “Love you, Apollo.”

            “Love you too.” He closed the door.

 

—o0o—

 

Grantaire had just started a movie when Montparnasse came out of the bathroom, smelling far better than he had that morning, and flopped down next to him.

            “What are we watching?” he asked.

            “Lord of the Rings.”  Grantaire replied idly.  Though it was nice out, he was feeling a little down, and really just wanted to do nothing all day. He hadn’t gotten any illustrations for a while, and he was in a bit of a slump.  He couldn’t seem to make anything good…nothing worth selling. It was tough for him when he was in an artistic slump, and spent a lot of time watching movies. They always made him feel better, and it was inspiring to watch someone save the world. 

            “Cool. The first one?”

            “Yup.” Grantaire laid down, taking his shirt off, bunching it up, and using it as a pillow.  Montparnasse looked at him, a strange sort of look in his eyes. Grantaire ignored him, sighing and watching his movie.  This was one of his favorites.  He wasn’t going to let Montparnasse ruin it for him, even if this was the thousandth time he’d seen it.

            “So, uh…When did you meet Enjolras?”  Grantaire sat up, smiling at the mention of his love.

            “We met in college.  He used to hate me.” He laughed, running his hand through his hair.

            “Why?”

            “I liked him…I never left him alone.” He grinned.  “I called him Apollo.”  Montparnasse smiled.

            “He’s a good guy.  He was always a good guy, even in high school.  He was always looking after Prouvaire cause he was always getting picked on…mostly by me, I guess.” He admitted, guilty.

            “Have you seen Jehan since…everything?” Grantaire asked.

            “No. I don’t…I guess I’m scared. I was such a ass to him, he’d probably be afraid of me.”

            “Maybe…Maybe not though.  Jehan’s a good guy, too.”

            “Yeah I know.  He was always real nice too.”

            “He’s changed a lot.  He isn’t as shy anymore.  Getting Lyle really helped him out, I think.”

            “He’s a cute kid.  I saw him yesterday at the fund raiser.”

            “Yeah. He’s cute. He’s just like Jehan, it’s funny.” Grantaire grinned, thinking of Lyle and how he dressed and behaved. He really was like a little Jehan, with his ribbons and bows and flowers.  His soft voice and song-like laughter was also reminiscent of Jehan. There was Feuilly in him too, though. Lyle was an artisan. He loved creating and giving of himself for the sake of others.  He loved doing volunteer work, and was a very hard worker.  He never complained, and did whatever he was told to do quickly and extremely well.  He simply adored helping others. 

            “I wish I had a kid.  I’d love a kid…I just can’t.  I have nothing to give a kid.”

            “Well use that as initiative to clean up.  That’s how I quit drinking.  Just remind yourself of that kid you could have if you cleaned up, and you’ll clean up.” He smiled.  Montparnasse returned the kind smile.  “Do you do drugs?” he asked.

            “I did.  I haven’t in a while, but my arms are all messed up from shooting up for so many years.” He pulled up his sleeves and showed Grantaire all of the reddish marks running up and down his arms. “I never smoked, though. My dad smoked, and he was always sick from it.  I promised myself I’d never do that.”

            “My dad smoked too; and drank.  I didn’t have a real good childhood.”

            “Sorry. That sucks.  That’s one thing that didn’t go wrong for me, I guess. My parents were always cool…They live in the US now, though.  But I talk to them a lot.  They don’t know how much of a fuck up I am…”

            “You’re not a fuck up.  Everyone has a tough time sometimes.  Stay with us for a while, get a job, get your own place.  It’ll be fine.” He smiled.

 

They were quiet for some time, just watching the movie.  Grantaire occasionally sipping a glass of water.  Montparnasse sighed after a long while.

            “Do you guys have a gym membership or anything?  Is there a place nearby I can go to?”

            “To work out?” Grantaire asked.

            “Yeah. There was equipment in my old place, but I can’t really go back…”

            “Uh…We don’t have a membership anywhere…Enjolras can’t really work out…it’s like a trigger for him cause he used to be addicted to it when he had anorexia…But there’s a place down the street on the corner.  You might have to pay, though.  Jehan runs a yoga class, too.  That’s free.” He smiled.

            “Do you go to that a lot?”

            “Nah…I can’t wake up that early.  He starts at 5am so they can watch the sun rise.  He has another class at 9 in the morning, but I’m usually either working or watching René while Enjolras is in court.”

            “Why don’t you come work out with me?  We can go for a run or something.”  Grantaire shrugged.  He wasn’t especially athletic, and was nowhere near ‘in shape’.  He liked drawing and painting and quiet things.  He had been self-conscious about his weight for a while, and was embarrassed to really go out and do anything.  He wasn’t really fat, but he was a big guy, and he didn’t feel comfortable in his own body.  The doctor said he was fine and healthy, and that was what really mattered, but he was still unsure of himself.  He did have depression, and knew that he ate when he was upset. He had done that since he was a kid. He felt his face growing hot, embarrassed.  He didn’t want Montparnasse to know how self-conscious he was.  He wasn’t even sure if Enjolras knew.  He always tried to keep up a sunny demeanor when it came to looks and weight, knowing how strongly it effected Enjolras, but he, too, had a bit of a problem with himself.

            “You go.  I have to clean this place up before Enjolras gets back.  He doesn’t like a mess, you know?” he joked.  “It’s a neat nick.”  He stood up, pulling his shirt back on—suddenly very self-conscious—and started doing the dishes from breakfast.  Montparnasse headed out again.

            “I’ll see you in a bit, then.” He said with a smile.

            “Yeah!” Grantaire replied with a wave, sighing heavily and running a hand through his hair the moment the door closed.

 

—o0o—

 

“Hey handsome.” Enjolras said later that night, standing in the doorway of their bedroom. He was in his pajamas—a massive tee shirt—but he was still the most beautiful creature Grantaire had never seen.

            Enjolras bit his lip, ever-so-slightly seductively, placing a hand on his hip as he leaned against the doorframe, hiking up his tee shirt to his hip, allowing just a bit of his lacy undergarments to peek out.  Grantaire smiled, watching Enjolras blush and look away. He walked over to the bed, taking Grantaire’s hand as he laid down, smiling as he pulled the elastic out of his hair; how he knew Grantaire liked.  He raked his hand through his dark curls.

            “Love you.” he cooed lightly, hardly more than a whisper. He didn’t want Montparnasse to hear.

            “Love you too, Apollo.” Grantaire replied, kissing him passionately before sighing and laying down.  Enjolras propped himself up on his elbow and looked to Grantaire, puzzled. The lace undies usually got him in the mood pretty quickly.

            “What’s wrong?” he asked, running his hand up and down Grantaire’s arm.

            “Tired.”

            “So I put on this bullshit for nothing?” he joked, dangling the bright red thong in front of Grantaire’s face.  He laughed, rolling over and giving Enjolras anther kiss.

            “Sorry.” He smiled meekly, apologetically. 

            “That’s alright.  Just let me get actual underwear on, then we’ll talk.  Something’s wrong, I can see it.” He said, standing up, pulling on a pair of boxers and flopping back down beside Grantaire. “What’s wrong?”

            “Nothing. Just thinking.”

            “Did you take your medication today?” he asked, kissing his cheek. Grantaire nodded.

            “Yeah I did.  Just sad, I guess. Happens sometimes.” He explained, avoiding the subject of Montparnasse as long as he possibly could. He didn’t want Enjolras to know about their conversation…But he wanted to tell him the truth.

            “I don’t want you to be sad.  What can I do?  I want to help.”

            “Enj, you know you can’t really do anything.  It’s okay.  It’ll pass.” He smiled meekly.

            “Okay.” Enjolras agreed, snuggling up against Grantaire, running his hand up and down his chest.

            “Enjolras?” Grantaire asked quietly after a long while, combing his hand though his golden curls, tugging at them lightly, watching them spring back.

            “Hm?” Enjolras replied quietly, his eyes closed, holding Grantaire’s hand, rubbing his thumb over his knuckles. 

            “Do you…do you want me to lose weight?” he asked, struggling slightly. Enjolras opened his eyes.

            “Is that what you’re sad about?  No. No Grantaire, I don’t want you to lose weight.  But I do want you to be happy, and if losing weight makes you happy, then go for it.” He smiled. “Just don’t make yourself sick.”

            “So you do think I need to lose weight, then…”

            “No, Grantaire.  I think you’re perfect and lovely and beautiful and wonderful precisely how you are. But if you want to lose weight safely, and if that would make you happy, I want you to do it.  I don’t think you need to.  But if you want to, you should.” He explained, craning his neck up and kissing his chin.  “Why are you suddenly so interested?”

            “Montparnasse.” He admitted.

            “He seems to be having a bit of an effect on both of us, doesn’t he?” Enjolras replied.

            “A little bit…I just…He looks really good, doesn’t he?” Grantaire chuckled.

            “He really does.  He’s like one of those underwear models.” Enjolras replied, chuckling back. “I could never look like that!”

            “Me neither.  I guess living a life of crime keeps you in shape, huh?”

            “Out running cops keeps you fit.” They laughed again.

            “He isn’t that bad.” Grantaire said.  “I feel bad for him.  He means well, but…He just can’t seem to get his shit together.  He keeps talking about having a kid.  He wants to be a dad so bad.”

            “I know.  That’s why I want to help him so much…I’ll help him get a job and get back up on his feet…I think he wants help.”

            “You really are a saint, you know that, Apollo?”

            “No I’m not.” He replied with a little blush. 

            “You are, though.  Anyone else would just leave him alone.  They’d kick him out and walk right past him without another thought.  Especially since he was such a jerk in high school. But you invite him to stay at your house, give him cash for clothes, help him get a job…you’re a miracle. You’re perfect.” He kissed Enjolras’ nose. “And I love you so much.”

            “I love you too, Grantaire.  So, so much.”

            “I’m going to start running tomorrow.  Tomorrow morning.”

            “I’m glad.  I’m proud of you. Maybe I’ll come too.” He smiled.

            “We can wheeze and die on the sidewalk together.” He joked. Enjolras laughed.

            “Sounds good.  There’s nowhere I’d rather die.”

            “Love you.” he said again.

            “Love you too.”

 

 

 

 

~Montparnasse means well.  He really does.  He just always comes across as offensive.  He can't help it.  It's kind of sad, actually...poor Montparnasse.... 


	18. Chapter 18

            “Daddy, how come you’re wearing your sneakers?” René asked as Enjolras walked him down to Courfeyrac and Combeferre’s so he and Grantaire could go for their morning run.  “Are you going bike riding?”

            “No, Baby, me and Papa are going running this morning. Courfeyrac is going to make special breakfast for you, alright?”

            “Mm hm.” René said with a smile.  “Where are you going to run to?”

            “Just to the park and back, maybe.  I’m not sure yet.  We won’t be long, don’t worry.”

            “Okay.” René cooed as Enjolras opened the door. Courfeyrac had lived below him for years, and they rarely rang doorbells anymore.

            “Good morning!” Enjolras called.  Combeferre met them at the door.  The scent of pancake batter seemed to follow him.

            “Hey Enj!  Hey René! Courfeyrac’s making giant pancakes.” He smiled, taking René’s hand. 

            “Bye Sunshine.” Enjolras smiled.  René waved happily before following Combeferre to the kitchen. Enjolras headed back upstairs to get Grantaire.

 

Montparnasse was still sleeping, sprawled out on the sofa, when Enjolras and Grantaire left. It was Monday, though, and Enjolras was going to really push him to get a job.  He wasn’t one for freeloaders, and didn’t like being taken advantage of. As soon as they got back, he was going to take Montparnasse out to look for any job openings.

            He and Grantaire walked down the porch steps, and Grantaire turned around, his hands on his hips.  He sighed.

            “Okay good work out.  Let’s go home.” He joked.  Enjolras laughed.

            “No we have to at least make it to the park!”

            “Enjolras that’s like two miles.  I don’t think I’m going to make it to the end of the block.” Grantaire admitted meekly. “Not with this awesome gut.” He added jokingly.

            “Grantaire, you have a wonderful tummy.” Enjolras cooed, giving him a poke in the ribs. 

            “Hope you don’t love it too much, because I’m getting _ripped_.” He said.

            “I look forward to it.” Enjolras smiled.  “Now let’s get going!  I have work this afternoon!” Enjolras said, starting off down the sidewalk. Grantaire followed him, doing his best to keep up.

 

They both made it to the end of the block with little trouble, but Grantaire was glad for the break at the crosswalk, and put his hands on his knees, breathing heavily. Enjolras was only slightly winded—he wasn’t in especially good shape, but he was light and small, which made for easier running.

            “You okay?” he asked Grantaire as he straightened up. He nodded.

            “Yup.” He smiled.  “I’m going to be sore as hell tomorrow, but I’m good now.”

            “Don’t worry.  You’ll be fine.”

            “Yeah you say that now.  You won’t be so optimistic when you have to spoon feed me in bed because I can’t move.” Enjolras laughed before running across the street. Grantaire, again, followed him closely.

 

—o0o—

 

Enjolras and Grantaire made it to the park, about a mile away, in just over 10 minutes—not a very good mile time, but they were both proud of each other nonetheless.  They sat down on a bench in the shade, sharing the water bottle Enjolras had brought, and watching the people walk past. 

            “I didn’t think I’d make it all this way.” Grantaire admitted, his arms stretched across the back of the bench.

            “I knew you could do it.” Enjolras replied, leaning against his shoulder, closing his eyes.  Grantaire turned his head and kissed his golden hair, burying his nose in his curls.

            “You smell nice.” He mumbled against his head.  Enjolras laughed.

            “Glad you think so.” Enjolras replied with a chuckle.

            “Want to go home?”

            “Want to _walk_ home?”

            “Yes.” They both laughed, standing and making their way back to the house, walking hand in hand, slowly, both of them tired.

 

            “Are you alright?” Grantaire asked, looking over to Enjolras, who was watching his feet as he walked.  Enjolras had been a big runner in high school and college…and not in a healthy or competitive way.  He ran for hours every day in an attempt to bring his weight down.  The weakness that came with the lack of food only made him run harder; he had gotten it in his head that he was weak because he wasn’t in shape, that he was tired because he was too heavy.  It was a dangerous cycle, and it nearly killed him twice.  Grantaire worried their run had somehow triggered him, but Enjolras looked up at him with a smile.

            “Yup. Just tired.  I haven’t run in so long.”

            “I think the last time I ran that far was freaking gym class in high school.” Enjolras smiled again.

            “You know we graduated ten years ago?” Enjolras said.

            “Serious?”

            “Yup. We were 18 when we graduated. We’re 28 now…We’re such old people.” He chuckled.

            “We became old people when we had a baby.” Grantaire replied.

            “You’re right…having a kid makes you old…”  Grantaire shrugged.

            “You don’t look a day older than 16 anyway.” He joked. Enjolras made a face at him.

            “You know I got carded at the movies with Jehan the other night?” Enjolras chuckled.

            “Did you really?  You didn’t tell me that!” Grantaire laughed.  “What did you see?”

            “Yeah! When we went to see _L’Inconnu Du Lac_ and I got carded.  They didn’t even bother with Jehan, they thought he was my kid friend.  He got in on the under 16 fee.”

            “Oh my God that’s hilarious!”

            “The girl at the ticket counter looked at my license and made this face. I’m sure she thought it was a fake ID.”

            “You’re lucky.  Rather look too young than too old.”

            “I guess so, huh?” Enjolras replied with a smile.

 

            They climbed the front steps and walked into the house, opening Combeferre and Courfeyrac’s front door in the hallway to pick up René.  They were welcomed by Combeferre, who stood in the kitchen, scrubbing something off the counter, his hair filled with what appeared to be frosting, rainbow sprinkles all over the floor and counter. A pile of massive, overflowing cupcakes sat on the table.

            “Ferre, we were gone 45 minutes.” Grantaire said with a chuckle. Enjolras looked slightly traumatized.

            “I know, but René wanted to make cupcakes.” Combeferre replied with a smile.

            “He also wanted to jump off the roof, but that obviously was not allowed to happen.” Grantaire replied, trying very hard not to laugh.

            “Where _is_ René?” Enjolras asked, raising an eyebrow. He wasn’t worried. He knew Courfeyrac and Combeferre would never let anything happen to René, but he was still curious, for the baby and Courfeyrac were nowhere to be seen.

            “Oh…he’s…in the…bath tub.” Combeferre smiled meekly.  Enjolras shook his head, smiling slightly, heading towards the bathroom as Grantaire headed into the kitchen to help Combeferre clean up a bit.

            Enjolras found Courfeyrac crouched over the bathtub, René splashing around in the water.  Both of them were laughing, and neither of them noticed Enjolras standing in the door until René finally looked up.

            “Daddy!” he cooed.

            “Hey Sunshine.  What happened?” Enjolras asked with a smile.  The tub was overflowing with bubbles—reminiscent of the cupcake tins in the kitchen.

            “We made cupcakes!” René explained.

            “And we gave them a bit of a…hm…I’d say Jackson Pollock style frosting job.” Courfeyrac explained with a grin.

            “I see.” Enjolras smiled.  “I can hardly see you with all of those bubbles!” he knelt down, scooping up a handful of foam and placing it in René’s curls like a bubble hat. René took a handful of bubbles as well, dabbing it onto Enjolras’ nose.  He laughed.

            “Uncle Courf let me put in the bubbles!” René added.  Enjolras gave Courfeyrac a look that silently asked ‘why?’

            “I can’t really do the squeeze-y thing.” Courfeyrac explained with a meek little grin, flexing his fingers to demonstrate. 

            The past autumn, Courfeyrac had been in a bad car accident, causing a traumatic brain injury.  Since then, he had a bit of trouble with fine motor skills.  He walked with a cane, and couldn’t do anything small or delicate with his hands.  He had trouble applying pressure with his fingers—that included squeezing bubble bath out of a bottle.

            “That’s alright.  I’m going to help Papa and Uncle Combeferre clean up in the kitchen, alright Sunshine?” Enjolras said.  “Thanks for giving him a bath, Courf.” He added.

            “Any time!” he replied.  René splashed bubbly water at Courfeyrac, who laughed.

 

—o0o—

 

Enjolras headed back up to the apartment while Grantaire and Courfeyrac brought René out for ice cream. He opened the door, expecting to find Montparnasse asleep on the couch, as usual, but instead, he found him in the kitchen, doing the breakfast dishes.

            “Thank you.” Enjolras said with a smile, taking the dishes Montparnasse had rinsed and putting them into the dishwasher.

            “Oh hey.  Where were you guys?” he asked, concerned.

            “Grantaire and I decided to try and go for a run.” He grinned meekly. Montparnasse laughed.

            “How did that go?” he asked.

            “We made it to the park, then walked home.” He admitted. “René was downstairs with Courfeyrac and Combeferre.”

            “Oh. That’s cool.  Good for you guys.” He finished the last of the dishes and dried his hands.

            “I was wondering,” Enjolras began, “If you had any ideas in the area of getting a job.”

            “Oh…um…I honestly haven’t looked yet.  I’m sorry, I’ll get on it—”

            “Oh don’t worry!  I was just curious to know if you wanted to work anywhere particular.  I know most of the business owners around town from fund raising and things, and I’m sure I could help you get hired.”

            “Really? You’d do that for me?”

            “Sure. A good word can go a long way.” Enjolras smiled.  “Do you have any particular skills associated with a certain profession?”

            “Uh…I can fix motorcycles…I’m pretty good at stealing shit.” He joked.

            “Why don’t we keep the stealing under wraps and try to find you a job at a car repair shop.  Feuilly works at one. I’ll call him.”

            “Yeah. Okay.” Montparnasse agreed as Enjolras shot Feuilly a text message:

 

Me> 11:26 – Feuilly is there an opening for another mechanic at the shop?

Feuilly> 11:26 – boss says we can always use more guys

Me> 11.27 – perfect. Be down with your new employee in a sec. ;) Tell your boss he’s coming with me and that he’s a good guy.

 

            “You’re in.”  Enjolras smiled to Montparnasse.

            “Serious?”

            “Serious. We just have to talk to the boss, and if he likes you, you’ve got a job.”

            “That’s it?”

            “That’s it.  Just let me get changed and we’ll go.”  Montparnasse smiled.

—o0o—

 

            “Hey Enjolras.” Feuilly said with a smile when they arrived. He was wearing a terribly torn tee shirt, covered in grease and oil stains, a dirty rag in his hand which he shoved in his pocket before shaking Montparnasse’s hand.  “You’re Montparnasse then, huh?” he asked, looking him over. The two men had much the same build, their muscular arms similar in size, both of their shoulders broad. Feuilly was a bit more scruffy than Montparnasse, though.  After moving in with Enjolras and Grantaire, the first thing Montparnasse had done was shave and get a shower.  He used part of Enjolras €200 to get a haircut. 

            Feuilly, on the other hand, looked as if he hadn’t shaved in at least two weeks, a thin, scruffy beard covering his chin.  His hair was in a stubby half-ponytail, just to keep the front strands out of his face.  There was a massive Band-Aid on his lower arm, only partially covering a huge gash going from his wrist to his elbow.  He smiled, though, and that smile changed his scruff from intimidating to charming.

            “I’m Feuilly.” Montparnasse shook his hand.

            “Hey.” Montparnasse replied timidly, wanting to make a good impression. He was suddenly very aware of the scars on his arms from shooting up as a young man.  He regretted wearing a short sleeved shirt.

            “Feuilly, is your boss here?” Enjolras asked.

            “Oh yeah come on back.” He said with a smile, calling to one of the other men in the garage to take over on the car he had been working on. He held the door for Enjolras and Montparnasse, then walked them back into the office, where an older man in a blue work jumpsuit sat organizing a filing cabinet. ‘Jean Jordan’ embroidered over his breast pocket.  He looked up when he heart the office door open, and smiled.

            “Is this the guy you were asking about, Feuilly?” he asked, looking to Enjolras.  “He’s a little scrawny, but workin’ in the garage’ll fix that mighty quick!” he laughed. “That hair’s gonna have to go too. Don’t want that getting caught in a carborator!” he seemed to be getting a kick out of himself, and Enjolras looked mortified.

            “Nah not Enj.” Feuilly clarified.  “Montparnasse.” He motioned to the man with his head.

            “Ah I see.  You look more like a mechanic.  Any experience?”

            “I’ve built a few motorcycles.  I know how to build an engine, too.”

            “Can you change oil?”

            “Yup.”

            “Can you do a break job?”

            “I’ve never tried, but I’m willing to learn.” He smiled.

            “Got a social security number?”  Montparnasse’s cheeks flushed.

            “Y-yeah.” He replied timidly.  Feuilly raised an eyebrow.  Montparnasse reluctantly handed the old man his social security card.  He ran the number through his computer program quickly, bowing his eyebrows for a moment, squinting to read the screen.  After a few tense moments, he handed the card back to Montparnasse and smiled.

            “You’re hired.”

            “Really?” Montparnasse asked, in awe.

            “Yup.”

            “But you…you ran my number…”

            “Kid, I’ve hired more parolees and ex-drug dealers thank anyone, and I know a guy trying to clean up when I see one.  Sometimes guys with a criminal history work the hardest. They try hard because they want to turn around.  And I happen to be a friend of Enjolras, and if he says you’re good, you’re good.” Enjolras smiled. “One step out of line, though, and you’re gone.  Got it?” he warned.  Montparnasse nodded.

            “Yes, Monsieur.  Thank you so much.” He shook the man’s hand and smiled.

 

 

 

~this hasn't had much René in it since Montparnasse arrived...I'll have to fix that.  I like writing about little kids much more than I like writing about ex convicts..... :)


	19. Chapter 19

René had been more or less bouncing all day, so totally excited for Halloween night.  The moment he woke up, he insisted he wear his costume, Toto, from the Wizard of Oz.

            “René, we can’t go trick or treating until night time!” Grantaire tried to explain to him, but he would have none of it.

            “No it’s Halloween, so I have to wear my costume.” René replied, eating his yogurt. Grantaire smiled.

 

—o0o—

 

Later that evening, Jehan, Feuilly, and Lyle, their little boy, came over to put the finishing touches on their costumes.

            This year, they were going as the cast of The Wizard of Oz, and Enjolras always made sure their costumes were the talk of the town.  People had come to expect amazing costumes from Enjolras and Grantaire, as well as their friends, and they always went as a group. Grantaire was all set with his scarecrow costume, Feuilly was the Tin Man, Jehan was Dorothy, Lyle was the Lion, and Enjolras was going as Glinda—it was only appropriate with his long, luscious hair.  Enjolras was often something girlish for Halloween, but he didn’t mind.  It was all in good fun.  It was all for René and Lyle.

            Jehan, Enjolras, and Lyle sat in Grantaire’s studio space—once a walk-in closet, and put the last details on their costumes.  Enjolras was shoving yet more tulle under his puffy pink dress, and Lyle glued the many rhinestones onto his crown and magic wand. Jehan was tediously sewing red sequins onto a pair of red ballet flats—he couldn’t walk in heals.

            Grantaire and Feuilly were sitting in the living room, getting Feuilly into his very complicated costume Jehan had made out of drier hoses and tinfoil. It was actually a very masterful costume, but it was difficult to get on.  Grantaire was fastening the tinfoil-covered-arm tubes to Feuilly, his face already painted a shiny silver to match.

            “This is so nuts why am I doing this?” Feuilly asked with a chuckle.

            “You’re doing this because you love your kid.  I have to shove straw up my sleeves, and that’s going to itch like hell, so stop complaining.”  Grantaire replied with a grin.

            “I need a beer.” Feuilly said before realizing what he had said. “No…Shit sorry.” Feuilly wasn’t especially eloquent, and never wanted to hurt anybody’s feelings, but he sometimes came across as coarse, and had truly said something cruel to Grantaire, by accident, of course. Grantaire smiled.

            “It’s okay.  I’m alright, Feuilly. You can say ‘beer’ in front of me, I won’t like…have a panic attack or anything.” He chuckled.

            “Sorry…I’m just usually careful and I didn’t even think.  I have to be careful with Lyle.  He has so many little trigger things he associates with his shitty father.  I don’t want him to get upset, I don’t want you to get upset, I don’t want anyone to get upset ever.” He laughed.

            “Don’t worry about me.” Grantaire smiled.  “Just don’t say ‘I think we have an awesome government’ in front of Enjolras. That’s the biggest trigger in this house.” Feuilly laughed harder, and Enjolras peeked out from around the corner, glaring at Grantaire.

            “I heard that.  René says you’re a Goober.” He said.

            “Tell René that he’s a Goober too.” Grantaire replied.  Lyle and René squealed from inside the room, both of them giggling.

            “Lyle says he thinks you are a very sweet Goober, Grantaire.” Jehan cooed, peeking out from behind Enjolras.

            “Aww.” Grantaire replied, duct taping Feuilly together. Jehan scurried out of the room and looked up at Feuilly, giving his silvery lips a kiss.

            “I love my lovely Tin Man.” He cooed. 

            “And I love my Dorothy.” Feuilly replied, straightening the bow at the end of one of Jehan’s braids.  Jehan blushed, as he was wont to do regardless of his level of embarrassment.

            “I like your costume, Feuilly.  It looks absolutely fetching.  You are the handsomest Tin Man I have ever seen.”  Jehan added, fluttering his pale eyelashes. Their sweet nothings were interrupted by another squeal of laughter and applause from René and Lyle.

            “You ready, Enjolras?” Grantaire called, guessing that’s what the fuss was about.

            “One sec!” Enjolras replied.  René and Lyle hung out the door, both of them with bubble wands, blowing little bubbles which Enjolras dramatically walked through, his dress just as wide as the doorframe. Jehan slapped his hands over his mouth, grinning.  Grantaire grinned and met Enjolras at the end of the hallway.  He took Enjolras by the waist and dipped him, giving him a kiss.

            “Beautiful.” He said.  Enjolras smiled.

            “I love the tiara, Enjolras, it came out so perfect!” Jehan cooed. Feuilly chuckled.

            “Have you ever gone out on Halloween as a guy, Enjolras?” he asked.

            “I was Legolas when we did the Lord of the Rings.” He retorted, crossing his arms over his chest, his hands in silky white gloves.

            “Legolas doesn’t count as a guy, Enjolras.” Feuilly continued. Grantaire laughed.

            “Oh quiet!  Enjolras, you’re lovely.” Jehan smiled.

            “I think Lyle looks the best.” Enjolras said with a grin.

            “No I don’t.” Lyle cooed from the other room.

            “Oh Lyle come show us!  I want to take a picture of all of us!” Jehan called.  Lyle crept from the room, his cheeks red and his head cast down, staring up at everyone through his long eyelashes.

            Lyle was dressed as the lion, but his costume was absolutely amazing. Jehan had sewn him up a sort of lion suit, but it didn’t look silly.  It was relatively fitted, and Grantaire had painted his face using the Lion King Broadway show as inspiration, his eyes winged and his cheeks spotted with yellow and orange spiraling patterns.  Jehan had found a tube of bright yellow mascara and used it on the tips of Lyle’s eyelashes, making his pretty brown eyes glow. His mane was a headband he and Jehan had fitted with tissue paper ‘fur’, creating a halo of red, orange, and yellow, two low pigtails completing the mane, temporarily dyed yellow on the ends to finish the circlet.  His tail was made of the same material as his suit, with a tissue paper tuft on the end to match his mane.

            “Wow Lyle!” Feuilly smiled.  He picked him up and spun him around with a hug.  “I love you so much.”

            “Love you too, Dad.” He replied quietly, smiling.  Jehan straightened his headband and kissed his hair.

            “I’m a puppy!” René cooed, standing beside Enjolras in his shaggy black Toto costume, two pointed ears standing up on his head.

            “You make an awesome puppy, Sunshine.” Grantaire said, pulling on his flannel shirt, straw sewn to the inside of the sleeves and neck. His jeans were much the same. He stuck on his straw hat and Jehan helped him paint his face up all patchy.  He painted a small pink heart on one of his cheeks to match the one painted on Feuilly’s chest.

            “Well now that we all look like a rowdy band of freaks,” Feuilly said, “Let’s get us some candy.” 

            “Yay!” René hopped on his toes, beyond excited, his ears bouncing up and down with him.  Lyle giggled at René’s reaction. 

            “Here, René!  Take your trick-or-treat bag.” Enjolras handed René his little cloth pumpkin bag for candy. Jehan handed Lyle his pillowcase, and they all paraded out of the apartment, heading downstairs and knocking on Courfeyrac and Combeferre’s door before even going outside. They were always the first stop. When they knocked, Courfeyrac opened the door, Combeferre standing close by with a bowl of candy—René and Lyle would not be their only trick-or-treaters. 

            “Hey you guys!  You look great!” Courfeyrac smiled.

            “Enjolras, yet another triumph of hair incorporation.” Combeferre said.

            “Always.” Enjolras replied.  He always used his hair to his advantage when planning Halloween costumes.

            “I like your costume too, Courf.” Grantaire said with a chuckle. It was Courfeyrac’s first Halloween after the car accident that left him dependent on a cane, but he had incorporated it quite nicely, dressed in an 1830s style suit complete with a fluffy ascot, and wore a top hat on his head.  His suit coat was patterned, deep red velvet, and he wore a realistic curled moustache. 

            “What are you, Uncle Courf?” René asked.

            “I’m a Dandy.” He replied.

            “What are you being, Combeferre?” Lyle asked quietly.

            “I’m Waldo.”  He grinned, looking down at his striped sweater.  “I was trying to play up the glasses, you know?” he explained.  Combeferre had always worn glasses.  In previous years, he had been Harry Potter, Austin Powers, and every other glasses-wearing character you could think of.

            Lyle smiled. “I found you!” he cooed.  Combeferre laughed.

            “Here, have some candy and get going!  You don’t want all the good stuff to be gone!” Courfeyrac said, handing each of the boys a handful of fun sized everything.

            “What do you say, René?” Enjolras prompted, adjusting his crown.

            “Thank you!” René bubbled. 

            “Yes thank you.” Lyle added.

            “You are most welcome!  Now go have fun!” Combeferre smile.  Enjolras snuck a peanut butter cup as he walked by, giving Courfeyrac a wink. He laughed.

 

Lyle stuck close to Jehan as they walked, slightly fearful of the mass of people and growing darkness.  During Lyle’s abusive childhood, nighttime meant torture—more so than during the day—and the combination of the dark and the crowded street was making him nervous.  Jehan smiled at him, and Feuilly held his hand.  René walked between Enjolras and Grantaire, both of them holding his hands and swinging him through the air as he giggled.  When they reached a house, René would scurry up the stoop and ring the doorbell—Lyle was a bit too shy—and collect their candy.  Everyone was impressed with their costumes, even though the adults were really just accessories for Lyle and René.  It was fun, and everyone enjoyed themselves.

 

They went in early, at around 8:00, because René was only five and Lyle was emotionally exhausted from the crowds and lights and altogether stress of Halloween.  But that didn’t mean the fun was over.  René and Lyle stayed downstairs with Combeferre and Courfeyrac and helped hand out candy while everyone else got out of their costumes. 

            Jehan folded his blue and white checkered dress carefully, taking the red bows out of his hair and placing them carefully into his shiny shoes. Feuilly had some trouble getting out of his Tin Man costume, but with help from Grantaire, he managed to escape.

            When Enjolras came out of the bedroom where he was getting changed, Grantaire immediately pulled him into a hug, playing with one of his curls. He had shined them all up and twisted them into perfect pipes, no flyaways, not a golden strand out of place, and he had neglected to pull it into a ponytail, though he had changed out of his costume. If he had simply forgotten or if he wanted to tease Grantaire, nobody could tell.

            “I like your hair, Apollo.” Grantaire said with a smile.

            “I know.  You told me.” Enjolras replied with a chuckle.

            “Oh you two are _so_ romantic!” Jehan cooed, leaning into Feuilly.  He had changed into his pajamas, seeing as he, Feuilly, and Lyle were staying the night for a Halloween sleepover, and looked like a little floppy flower, something like a calla lily, in his oversized tee shirt, decorated with pastel tie-dye.

            “I try.” Grantaire joked with a grin.  Enjolras rolled his eyes and called down the stairs.

            “Bedtime, Sunshine!” he called.

            “Aw Daddy a little longer!” René replied with a frown.

            “Yeah, Daddy, a little longer!” Courfeyrac called up.  Lyle giggled.

            “You too, Bud.” Feuilly added.  Lyle trotted up the stairs immediately, ready for bed.

            “Love you, Dad.” He said quietly, giving Feuilly a hug.  Lyle was tall—as tall as Jehan—but even so, he could only hug Feuilly around the waist.  Feuilly was a big guy, juxtaposing him even more from dainty Lyle and humming-bird Jehan. Courfeyrac walked René up the stairs, hobbling after the little boy with his cane and top hat.

            “Look Daddy we sorted all the candy!”  René cooed, showing Enjolras the inside of his little Halloween pail, where all of the candy sat sorted in sections by color.

            “Great job, Sunshine.” Enjolras said with a smile, helping René out of his costume and into the pajamas he had laid out on the couch.  René yawned as Lyle emerged from the bathroom, the color rinsed out of his hair, his face all clean.  With his hair down and his PJs on, Lyle was just like Jehan. Though they wore much the same thing to bed, their mannerisms really made them similar.  Lyle tiptoed to the sofa, where he pressed himself up against the corner of the sectional and sat quietly, something Jehan did often. He leaned against Enjolras, who was the nearest warm body—something else Jehan was wont to do—and twirled his fingers in his shoulder-length hair.  Enjolras smiled as Lyle’s eyes fluttered, and Grantaire pulled the futon out of the loveseat.  René immediately hopped onto it and started bouncing on his knees.

            “Come on, Baby.  That’s for Feuilly and Jehan.” Grantaire smiled, scooping up René.  Lyle was going to sleep on the long end of the sofa.

            “Can I sleep on the couch?” René asked.

            “Why would you want to sleep on the couch when you have your awesome big boy bed in your room?” Enjolras asked.

            “Because I want to see Lyle.” He explained.  Lyle blushed as he smiled, seeming to recoil slightly into the sofa. He was a terribly snuggly little boy, despite everything he had been through, and found great joy and comfort in hugs and tight, cozy spaces, like the corner of a sofa.

            “Oh Enjolras let him sleep out here!  It’ll be fun!”  Jehan cooed.

            “He can sleep on the little part of the couch.” Lyle added with a smile. René climbed into Lyle’s lap and leaned against him.

            “Oh alright.” Enjolras agreed with a smile.  René gave a little ‘whoop!’ before scurrying into his room to collect his things, which he piled onto the small leg of the couch. Lyle laid his things out as well: a fluffy floral blanket, his favorite stuffed puppy, and a pillow with a pink pillowcase. 

            Lyle hunkered down as Enjolras and Grantaire gave René his bedtime kisses, heading into their bedroom for the night.  Feuilly and Jehan settled into their futon, and soon everyone was asleep…Except for René.

            Though he was very comfortable with his own little sleeping spot, he couldn’t help but want a snuggle from Lyle, who was sleeping nearby. He slipped from under his blanket, Elephant shoved under his arm, and snuggled up next to Lyle, who’s eyes fluttered open.

            “Hi René.” He whispered with a sleepy smile.

            “Hi.” René replied quietly, keeping his eyes shut, hunkered down against Lyle.

            “What are you doing?”

            “Sleeping.

            “But your bed is over there.” Lyle chuckled lightly.

            “No here.” René insisted.

            “This is my bed.”  Lyle tried once again, feebly. He really didn’t mind…he just didn’t want René getting into trouble for sleeping in the wrong bed.

            “No I want to stay with you.”

            “Alright, then…Goodnight, René.”

            “Night night, Lyle.  I love you.” René cooed, sighing lazily.  Lyle giggled.

            “I love you too, René!”

                                                     
  
  
  
  
  
  
~Yay!  Halloween!


	20. Chapter 20

It had been a long week for Grantaire.  Enjolras was away on business, and he and René were left at home, trying to think of things to do with themselves.  It was funny, but both of them were nearly completely dependent on Enjolras’ schedules and plans and ideas that when he left, they were lost.

               Grantaire wasn’t much good at thinking up things to do after his usual games were exhausted.  He and René had played with boats in the bath tub, drawn pictures, read books, and even play-fought on the floor.  They made a blanket fort around René’s bed, ate dinosaur chicken nuggets (René’s favorite—a taste inherited from Enjolras) and made cupcakes.  Both of them were out of ideas, and they sat idly on the sofa, watching Totoro—René’s favorite—the baby laying on Grantaire’s chest, Grantaire half asleep, though it was Saturday and only 8:30.  He rubbed Renés back, and yawned.  The cat did the same, yawning and shaking his head as René pet his back.

               After being quiet and listening to the movie for a good while, René turned his attention to Grantaire, sitting up and inspecting him, a curious sort of look in his eyes.

               “What’s up?” Grantaire asked, looking up at René sleepily.

               “What’s this?” René asked, pointing to the thin scar that began at Grantaire’s hip and traveled upward.

               “That’s from when I had my appendix out.” Grantaire explained.

               “What’s a a—apenix?”

               “It’s…um…It’s an organ that’s inside you, but you don’t really need it. Mine started to hurt, so the doctor took it out.”

               “Do I have a appendix?”  René inquired, looking down at his own little tummy, pulling up his shirt to get a better view.

               “Yup.”

               “Do I have to get mine taken out?”

               “I hope not.” Grantaire smiled.  “I don’t think you will, though.  Daddy didn’t have his appendix out, so I don’t think you need to worry.”

               “If Daddy need his appendix out, would I have mine out too?”

               “Maybe. Sometimes if a mommy or a daddy has a sort of sickness or something like needing your appendix out, their kids need to have theirs out too.”

               “But if you had yours out, don’t I need mine out too?”

               “No…Why would you need yours out?”

               “Because you’re my papa and you said if a mommy or papa has their appendix out, then the kid needs to have theirs out too.”  Grantaire sat quietly for a moment.  How was he supposed to explain genetics to his five year old? Hell, he hardly understood it himself.

               “Well…you know how we borrowed a mommy part from a nice lady in America to make you?”  René nodded. “And then we took the daddy part from Daddy?  You can only get something your mommy or daddy had if you have a part of them.” He attempted. René nodded.

               “But how come you and Daddy didn’t take the daddy part from you?” he asked.

               “Well…we talked about it for a long time before we decided. There are lots of sort of…little problems in my family and we didn’t want any of those things to come down to you. Like…My appendix.”

               “There’s more things like your appendix?” René asked.  Grantaire nodded.  “Like what?”  Grantaire thought for another moment.  He wasn’t expecting such difficult questions, and certainly wasn’t going to tell his five year old about his family history of alcoholism and how he had tried to kill himself in high school—something else that is sometimes seen as hereditary.

               “Um…you know the medicine I take at breakfast time?” René nodded, tracing his tiny finger down Grantaire’s appendix scar.  “that medicine is because sometimes I get really sad and really scared, even though there isn’t anything to be sad or scared about. Sometimes that can go from a daddy to a kid, and we didn’t want that to happen.”

               “But Daddy said he got sick when he was little and that’s why he always puts extra peanut butter on his toast in the morning, so he doesn’t get too skinny.” René explained.  René had asked Enjolras questions on his eating habits (why he kept track of calories, why he always put lots of peanut butter and butter on things, why he always finished everything at suppertime, no matter what) and Enjolras had explained to René that he had gotten very ill as a young man, and that he needed to make sure he ate enough so that he didn’t get sick again.

               “We thought about that too.” Grantaire explained.  “But some of the stuff I have is worse than what Daddy had.”

               “Are you sick?” René asked, concerned.  Grantaire shrugged.

               “Um…not really sick like germs, but sometimes my brain gets a little funky. You know how sometimes I just hang out and sleep a lot and don’t really go anywhere?”  René nodded again.  “That’s because my brain just gets really sad and makes me just want to sleep and stuff.  It’s that kind of sick, not germs sick.”

               “Oh okay.” René said with a smile.  Though he was a bit of a daydreamer (Combeferre called him a ‘space pilot’) René was very smart, and understood most things that were explained to him.

               “My smart little Sunshine.” Grantaire gave him a hug, and René’s eye caught on the large, colorful tattoo on his papa’s shoulder.

               “Daddy who’s on here?” he asked, pointing to the figures depicted on Grantaire’s shoulder and upper arm.  His arm was completely covered from his shoulder to his elbow with Greek gods and depictions of myths.

               “Um…this guy is Icarus, and this is Hermes and Hephaestus, and Hera and her peacock, and Artemis, and Poseidon, Zeus, and that’s Dionysus.” He chuckled. Dionysus had been modeled after himself, seeing as Enjolras called him that through much of college.

               “Who’s the one in the middle?” René asked, pointing to the central figure, his arms spread wide in front of the sun.

               “Guess.” Grantaire smiled.  René thought hard for a moment. 

               “Apollo.” He smiled.

               “You’re right.” Grantaire rubbed at René’s golden curls. “Who does it look like?” he asked with a grin. 

               “Daddy.” René said, looking closely at the figure: the golden hair, the trim build.

               “You’re right again!” Grantaire chuckled, giving René another hug.

               “Is that one you?” he asked, pointing to Dionysus.  Grantaire nodded.

               “Am I on there?” René asked, looking around to the back of Grantaire’s shoulder, to see if he was on the outskirts of the tattoo.  Grantaire shook his head.

               “You’re not on there.  I haven’t added anything to it in a long time.  Not since before you were born.” Grantaire explained.

               “oh.” René said, sounding a bit sad.

               “You think I should put you on there?” Grantaire asked, seeing his disappointment. René shrugged, but grinned. He did want to be included.

               “I think we need a little Eros in here somewhere.” He smiled.

               “What one is that?” René inquired.

               “He’s like Cupid.” Grantaire explained.  “The one that shoots the love arrows.” He smiled.

               “Yes I want to be him!”

               “Sounds good.  We’ll go tomorrow, okay? Me and you.  We’ll get a little Eros put on, sound good?”  René nodded, excited.

               “Good.” Grantaire grinned.

 

—o0o—

 

The next day at around nine in the morning, Grantaire and René walked the few blocks to the tattoo parlor. It was owned by a Mr. Fauchelevant, a close friend of Cosette’s father, and he always gave Grantaire a good deal. He was the coolest old guy Grantaire could think of, with long, grey hair he kept pulled back in a ponytail, and sleeve tattoos with some of the most beautiful artwork Grantaire had ever seen on someone’s skin.  He had given Jehan a ‘secret’ tattoo—a watercolor rabbit, running across the very top of his leg, where his leg met the rest of his body.  Feuilly and Enjolras were the only ones who had actually seen it, and Jehan hadn’t told anyone besides them himself.  Enjolras told Grantaire, and Feuilly quietly told most of the others, so Jehan’s secret tattoo wasn’t so secret anymore, but Jehan didn’t know that.

               Fauchelevant was a good guy, and was very gentle with Jehan, seeing as he started crying immediately and had to sit in Feuilly’s lap.  He had done all of Grantaire’s tattoos, even before he really knew Cosette or Mr. Valjean, and trusted him to do a good job. Not to mention he would take Grantaire back without an appointment on ‘friend time’, which was nice. Grantaire held the door for René, who hopped on in and looked around.

               “Hello there, little monsieur!” Fauchelevant said with a smile from behind the counter as René rounded the corner.  René gave a little wave.  “You look just like a Mr. Enjolras I know.” He joked, raising his bushy eyebrows. René giggled.

               “That’s my daddy!” he cooed.

               “He is?!  Well that must mean your papa is here for some more work, huh?”’          “You’re right.” Grantaire smiled, hoisting René up into his arms so he could see over the counter. 

               “Nice to see you, Grantaire.  You haven’t been in here for years!  I don’t think I’ve even met this little one!”

               “This is René.  He’s our little guy.” Grantaire smiled.

               “Well I’m very pleased to meet you, René.  He looks just like Enjolras.” He added to Grantaire. “What can I do for you?”

               “This.” Grantaire passed him a little sketch of René with angel wings and a little bow and arrow.  It was drawn on a piece of tracing paper, so that it might be moved around on his arm to find the best place for the permanent copy.

               “Papa drew it!” René cooed.

               “Your Papa makes my job nice and easy!  Come on back, R.”

               “Can I come too?” René asked.

               “Sure you can!  You’ve just got to sit on a stool and stay put, alright?”  René nodded.

 

—o0o—

 

“Does it hurt, Daddy?” René asked as Grantaire squeezed his eyes shut, the needle buzzing against his skin.

               “Just a little bit.” Grantaire replied, opening his eyes and giving René a little wink.

               “Can I see?” he asked.

               “Sure. Come over and take a peek.” Fauchelevant said with a smile.  René tiptoed to his papa’s side and took a careful look at his new tattoo.

               “That’s my face!” René smiled.

               “Yes it is!  You’re a handsome little monsieur, aren’t you?”  René blushed and covered his face in his sweater sleeves, giggling.

 

After another hour, Grantaire was finished, and showed René the finished product before Fauchelevant covered it with a gauze pad to keep it clean on the way home.

               “How come it’s all red?” René asked as they walked home.

               “Because it’s a bunch of little needle marks.  Like how you get a shot at the doctor and that turns red. It’s like a billion little ones of those.” Grantaire explained.  René made a face.

               “I don’t like shots.” René said, scrunching his nose.

               “Neither does Daddy.” Grantaire laughed.

 

—o0o—

 

Four days later, Enjolras came home. René immediately sprung up from the sofa where he sat watching cartoons with Grantaire and leapt into his Daddy’s arms.  Enjolras caught him in the air and spun him around, kissing René’s hair and holding him tight.

               “I missed you so much, Sunshine.” He said, finally pulling away and smiling at René.  Grantaire stood and joined their hug, giving Enjolras a kiss.

               “We missed you too.” Grantaire smiled.

               “Papa show him!” René cooed.

               “Show me what?” Enjolras asked, raising an eyebrow, excitedly suspicious.

               “Got something.” Grantaire explained, taking off his long-sleeved t shirt and showing Enjolras his shoulder, René stationed just above and to the right of Enjolras.  He grinned.

               “You added René!  It looks great!” Enjolras ran his fingers gently over the still-red skin.  “It’s beautiful.”

               “It’s me!” René said.

               “You’re right!  It is you!”

               “I went with Papa to get it and the man gave me a lolli!”

               “How exciting!” Enjolras gave René another hug.  “I’m glad you had a fun time with Papa.  I’ve never gone away for so long before!”

               “We missed you a lot, but Papa made dinosaurs!” René explained, meaning his chicken nuggets. 

               “Aw I missed it!” Enjolras said in mock disappointment.

               “I missed you.” René said again.  “I missed you.” he set his head down on Enjolras’ shoulder, and Enjolras ran his hand through René’s curls.

               “I missed you too, Sunshine.” He smiled up at Grantaire.


	21. Chapter 21

A month later, Christmas came. René was in his bed, unable to sleep, far too excited, his hair damp from his bath, his feet toasty warm in his snowman footy pajamas.  Even his sheets were festive: pale blue with Santas dancing through the snow, the occasional reindeer prancing beside him.  René traced one of them with his finger.

            Grantaire peered in through the door to see if René was asleep, and René sat up.

            “Papa is Santa here?” he whispered across the room.  Grantaire smiled and sat down beside René in his bed.

            “Santa won’t come unless you go to sleep.” Grantaire said. Enjolras stood in the doorway with a smile.

            “But I’m in my bed that counts as sleep, right?”

            “That’s not how Santa works, René.” Enjolras smiled, sitting on the opposite side of the bed, pulling René into his lap.  “You must be sleepy.”  René nodded against Enjolras’ chest, playing with his daddy’s loose curls. He yawned.

            “Why don’t we tuck you in?” Enjolras said with a smile.

            “No you have to stay here.” René cooed, sucking at the top of his thumb.

            “Oh René…Santa can’t come if we’re here with you.  Everybody has to be asleep in their beds.”

            “But how does he know?”

            “Santa knows everything.” Grantaire explained as Enjolras slipped René back under his fluffy feather comforter.  René’s eyes were heavy and he sighed lightly, hunkering down under the covers.

            “My sleepy baby René.” Grantaire cooed, combing his hand through the baby’s hair.

            “You are my Sunshine, my only Sunshine…” Enjolras began to sing, his voice soft and clear.

            “You make me happy when skies are grey…” Grantaire began to sing with him, smiling down as René’s eyes fluttered.

            “You’ll never know, dear, how much I love you.  Please don’t take my Sunshine away.” They finished together. René was fast asleep, snuggled up under his cozy blankets, his stuffed elephant tucked safely under his little arm. Enjolras smiled up at Grantaire, his far-too-big sweatshirt (originally belonging to Grantaire) hanging off his petite shoulder.  Grantaire leaned over, pulling the sweatshirt back up on Enjolras’ arm, and stood up carefully, being sure not to wake the baby.  Enjolras followed behind, and the two of them tiptoed into the TV room, where their tall, skinny Christmas tree stood proudly in the corner. Enjolras sighed.

            “Guess we have to head down to pick up everything.”  He texted Courfeyrac:

Me> 8:56 – can we come down and get everything?

Courf>8:57 – go for it.  Combeferre and I will help!

Me> 8:57 – thanks guys :)  René will be so happy! 

 

He smiled up at Grantaire. 

            “Ready?”

            “Yup. I love Santa.” He smiled.

            “Me too.  I’ll stay up here in case René wakes up…I don’t want to leave him alone.”

            “Sounds good. I’ll be back!” Grantaire left the house quietly, heading downstairs. Combeferre stood with a cup of coffee in the kitchen, and Courfeyrac carried one final gift out of the closet.

            “Is he asleep?” he asked with a smile, walking over to hand Grantaire the box, holding onto his cane and using it to somewhat quell his limp. His brain injury had left him with a slight speech impediment and a limp the doctor said he would probably have for the rest of his life, but after a few months, he had accepted himself and worked with what he had.  He often made light of his cane, swinging it, poking people with it, making people laugh; and his speech problem was hardly noticeable.

            “He is asleep.” Grantaire smiled.

            “We’ll help you bring stuff up!” Combeferre smiled.

            “You don’t have to…” Grantaire tried to protest.  He knew the stairs could be difficult for Courfeyrac.

            “No we want to!” Courfeyrac replied, leaning into Combeferre. “We don’t get to be Santa for anybody.”

            “Maybe someday, Mon Amour.” Combeferre said with a smile, giving Combeferre a quick hug before picking up a mountain of wrapped presents and starting up the stairs.  Grantaire followed suit, and Courfeyrac shoved a box under his arm, his other hand occupied by his cane.  They paraded up the stairs, dropping the boxes off just inside the door where Enjolras was waiting before parading back down to get more.  Courfeyrac stayed upstairs with Enjolras and helped him place the gifts under the tree.

            “This is so exciting.” Courfeyrac said, handing Enjolras gifts to place under the tree.  All of the boxes were wrapped in different colored paper, some with snowmen, some with Christmas trees, some with red and white candy cane stripes.  Grantaire had artfully tied every one up with a fancy bow or pompom he made himself.

            “It is fun, isn’t it?” Enjolras agreed, straightening the bow on a box before placing it under the tree.  “This is one of the best things about being a dad.” He smiled.  Courfeyrac nodded, seeming almost sad, but he handed Enjolras another box to place.

            “I guess it’s sort of late for ‘Ferre and I…” he said after a long moment. Enjolras looked up.

            “It’s not too late at all!  You’re not even 30 yet!”

            “You don’t think so?”

            “No. Not at all.  Feuilly’s 30 and he and Jehan have Lyle.  Combeferre’s 29.  You’re 27. It’s not too late at all.” He smiled, giving Courfeyrac a hug.  “Talk to Combeferre. You’d make really great parents.” Courfeyrac smiled.

 

—o0o—

 

            “Daddy Papa Santa!” René squealed, running into Enjolras and Grantaire’s bedroom and sitting on Grantaire’s chest.  He woke up and gave René a sleepy smile, and Enjolras sat up.

            “Good morning, Sunshine.” He said.

            “Santa came right!?  We have to see!”

            “Let me get the video camera!” Grantaire said, standing and quickly running into the kitchen to get the camera.  They always filmed René on Christmas morning.

            “Can we come in now?” Enjolras called, holding René in his lap.

            “Yup!” Grantaire called, standing at the end of the hallway with the camera. René scurried into the room, followed by a laughing Enjolras. 

            “Wow look Daddy!  Santa came!” René was bouncing, just standing in the middle of all of his presents. He seemed in awe, unable to decide what to do with himself.  Enjolras called Combeferre and told him and Courf to come up.  They arrived in a moment.

            “Are you going to open them, René?” Enjolras laughed.  He was still staring at the plethora of boxes.

            “Hm? Oh yeah!” René said, seeming to snap out of his Christmas-induced stupor.  He sat down carefully in the puddle of presents and got to work.

            “Unwrap the big one, René.” Combeferre suggested, sitting on the sofa next to Courfeyrac, his cane leaned up against the coffee table.

            “Okay!” René agreed, standing up to unwrap the box, carefully removing the ribbons.  “I bet Santa made all the ribbons!” he said.  Grantaire smiled and Enjolras kissed his cheek.  René pulled the snowman wrapping paper away from the huge box, revealing a massive pop-up tent, complete with windows and a flag.

            “Wow, René!” Enjolras mused.  “You could put that in your room!”

            “It’s really big!  And yellow! Santa knows yellow is my favorite!”

            “He must!” Grantaire smiled.

 

René continued opening his presents, receiving a small remote control puppy—which terrified the cat.  He also received a brand new sketchbook and ‘fancy’ pencils like the ones his Papa used, a big book of illustrated fairy tales, flower seeds and a little flower pot for the window sill, and a pair of yellow high top Chuck Taylors; René had been asking for them all year. He also unwrapped an old iPod Enjolras found cheep on eBay, because he didn’t yet trust the five year old with a new one, as well as a pair of headphones to go with it.

            “We have one for you too, René!” Combeferre said with a smile, handing the little boy a box wrapped in paper covered in a moth print.  René took off the bow and carefully unwrapped the box, pulling off the lid and revealing a new knit scarf, twice as long as René was tall. It was bright yellow with white stripes, and he wrapped it all around his neck with a smile.

            “What do you say, René?” Enjolras prompted.

            “Thanks Uncle Courf and Uncle Combeferre!” he hopped into Combeferre’s lap and gave him a hug, then leaned over to Courfeyrac and hugged him as well.

            “You are most welcome, René.” Courfeyrac replied. 

            “This is from Mimi and Pepe.” Enjolras smiled, handing René another box, about a foot wide and tall.  René opened it carefully and smiled, open mouthed, when he revealed a box of army men.

            “Papa we can play army men now!  Real army men, not just three!” René raved.  Grantaire had given René a few plastic army men he found while looking for sculpture supplies.  He and the baby played with them in the bathtub, but René loved them, and played with them even when he wasn’t in the tub, balancing them on the faucet and on the windowsill.

            “Yeah! We can set them all up and play war!” Grantaire smiled.

            “There’s this little box too.” René said, opening the plastic box of army men and retrieving another wrapped box and opening it.  Inside was a chain with dog tags, one old and dented, the other brand new and shiny.

            “Wow, René!  Those are cool!” Courfeyrac said.  “What do they say?” René picked up the tags and did his best to read them, starting with the old circular tag.

            “This one says…Claude…257816.” René read slowly.  “That’s Pepe’s name, right Daddy?” René asked.

            “That’s right!  That’s Pepe’s old tag from the navy.” Enjolras smiled.

            “What does the other one say?” Grantaire asked with a grin. René looked to the new tag, and shortly looked up with a massive smile.

            “This one has my name!” he cooed.  “It says René Jehan!”

            “Are there numbers too?” Courfeyrac asked.

            “There’s…3102009.” He read.

            “That’s your birthday, René.” Enjolras explained.  “Very exciting!”

            “I really like this Christmas!” René cooed, standing and running to Grantaire, jumping into his lap.  Grantaire hugged him tight before placing him on the floor and standing.

            “Now it’s time for grown up presents.” He smiled.  Enjolras bowed his eyebrows as Grantaire retreated into his studio, coming out a moment later with three wrapped canvases. He handed one to Combeferre and one to Courfeyrac.

            “Can we open them now?” Combeferre asked.

            “Of course you can!” Grantaire said with a smile, hauling René back up to his lap. Combeferre unwrapped his canvas—a 16x16 square—and smiled when the image was revealed.  It was a perfect painting of him and Courfeyrac nose to nose, Combeferre making a funny face, his nose scrunched, and Courfeyrac laughing.

            “Grantaire this is wonderful!” he said, hugging the painting before standing and hugging Grantaire as well.  Courfeyrac opened his next, revealing a companion painting, this one a more serious image of the two of them smiling, Combeferre looking down slightly to meet Courfeyrac’s gaze.

            “These are great!” he smiled.

            “Glad you think so.” Grantaire grinned, handing the next, far larger portrait to Enjolras, who smiled meekly.

            “Grantaire, you didn’t have to—”

            “Eh. No big deal.  You know how much I like painting you.”  Enjolras rolled his eyes and unwrapped the painting with help from René, revealing a portrait of the three of them; Enjolras on the left, Grantaire on the right, and René in the middle, all of them smiling and embracing happily.  Enjolras covered his mouth with his hand and admired the painting.

            “That is beautiful, Grantaire.” Combeferre said with a smile.

            “I like the curly hair.” Courfeyrac added.

            “It’s perfect.” Enjolras smiled, leaning over the canvas and giving Grantaire a quick kiss while René played with his army men, already wearing his new dog tags.

            “Did you have a nice Christmas, René?” Combeferre inquired. René looked up at him and smiled.

            “The best one ever!” he cooed.


	22. Chapter 22

It was late when Grantaire came home from a meeting with a client.  They had insisted they buy him dinner, and then they had looked over his portfolio for a horribly long time.  It was almost ten-o-clock, and Grantaire was sure Enjolras would be at least slightly put off.

            “Hey Apollo, listen, I’m sorry that—”         

            “It’s alright.” Enjolras said with a smile, looking up from his book, closing it and placing it on the night table.  He extended his skinny arms for a hug, which Grantaire pulled him into, holding him tight.

            “I love you.”

            “I love you too.  Keep quiet, though.” He said, looking to the bundle of blankets laying on the side of the bed, golden pipe curls slipping onto the sheets around René’s little face, his nose running and his mouth open.  He coughed in his sleep.

            “How’s he been?” Grantaire asked, sitting down beside the baby and running his hand through his hair, taking a tissue from the box on the night table and wiping his nose.

            “Joly said it’s just a bad cold.  I gave him Tylenol to help his sore throat and he fell right to sleep.”

            “poor little guy.” Grantaire said with a little smile, still running his hand through René’s curls, tugging gently at the pipes, watching them spring back. He pulled his hand away, though, when the baby’s blue eyes fluttered open.  He coughed.

            “Papa?” he said, his little voice sounding horribly congested. He coughed again.

            “Sorry, Sunshine.  Did I wake you up?”

            “I missed you.” René replied, sitting up and climbing into Grantaire’s lap with his stuffed elephant.  Enjolras took a tissue and held it to René’s nose.

            “Blow, baby.” He said, and René did so.  “Good job.  Do you need more cough medicine?”  René made a face and shook his head.

            “No that tastes yucky.” He said, burying his face in Grantaire’s chest, wiping his nose on his papa’s nightshirt.  He coughed again.

            “Come on, Sunshine. I think you need a little more medicine. It’ll make you feel better.” Grantaire said, rubbing the baby’s back.

            “No it tastes yucky.” He coughed.

            “Take it nice and fast, René, just one spoonful.” Enjolras said, pouring the thick liquid into the measuring spoon.  “It smells nice.” He said.

            “It tastes like poop.” René said, making a face.

            “How do you know what poop tastes like?” Grantaire asked.  René giggled, but his laughter turned to more coughing in a moment.

            “Just take it quick, Sunshine!” Enjolras prompted again.

            “You take it!” he retorted with a sniffle.

            “I’ll take a spoonful if you take a spoonful.” Enjolras bartered. A spoonful of children’s grape-flavored cough medicine wouldn’t hurt him.  It might put him to sleep, but it was bedtime anyhow.

            “Oh okay…” René sighed, not expecting his daddy to agree.  René opened his mouth and swallowed the entire spoonful quickly, then reached for the glass of water on the night table. “Now you!” he cooed, snuggling up against Grantaire’s chest again.

            “Oh okay.” Enjolras said with a joking frown.

            “I want to do it!” René grinned, taking the spoon from Enjolras and guiding it to his daddy’s mouth.  Grantaire laughed. Enjolras took his cough medicine, sticking his tongue out.

            “That is yucky, isn’t it?” he said with a laugh.  René nodded.

            “You stopped coughing though, didn’t you?” Grantaire said with a smile, poking the baby in the ribs.  He giggled.

            “Mm hm!” he agreed.

            “Time to go back to sleep, Sunshine.” Enjolras said, pulling aside the blankets. René slipped between the sheets and hunkered down beside Grantaire, snuggling up with his papa. Enjolras smiled; his two favorite people were right beside him, nice and quiet and sleepy.

            “Do you have enough blankies?” Grantaire asked.  René nodded, taking his green fuzzy blanket in his hands and giving it a squeeze.  He didn’t really cover himself with his blankets.  Instead, he hugged them like another stuffed animal or rubbed it against his cheeks. The once-fluffy green blanket was his favorite.  Grantaire had purchased it at a little baby shop in America René’s surrogate had told them about. They didn’t know he was a boy yet, and Grantaire had always liked green, so he figured it was a safe purchase. René had it ever since, and couldn’t sleep without it.

            “Are you cold?” Enjolras asked.

            “No.” René replied quietly, snuggled up close to Grantaire, his face against his chest. “Daddy water?” he added with a sniffle. Enjolras handed him his glass from the side table, and René took a sip.

            “Sleep now, René.”  Enjolras said lightly, rubbing the baby’s back as he hunkered down again.  He was asleep within moments, and Enjolras looked up to Grantaire with a smile.

            “You know…I sort of secretly like when he sleeps in here.” Grantaire admitted, running his hand through René’s bouncy hair.  “I just like it when we’re all together.”

            “I know…But you and I need a place to ourselves, and René needs a place to himself…But it’s alright when he isn’t feeling very well.”

            “Plus I don’t have to get up in the middle of the night when he coughs or whatever.” Grantaire added. 

            “How thoughtful of you.” he replied with a light chuckle, pushing a flyaway curl behind his ear.

            “I hate when he’s sick…poor little guy.”

            “He’s alright.  It’s just a cold. We’ll keep him home from kindergarten tomorrow and he’ll be fine.”

            “Hope so.”

 

—o0o—

 

But René was not fine.  His cold did not subside, and after three days of a worsening cough, he began to have difficulty breathing.  Joly diagnosed him with tonsillitis.  The next day, he was brought in for a tonsillectomy.

            “Daddy I don’t want to have my tonsils out!” René said for the thousandth time as he sat in his car seat, Enjolras sitting beside him in the back seat of their little red Fiat.

            “I know, baby, but Uncle Joly is going to make you feel much better, alright?”

            “But it will hurt!” he wailed, beginning to cry.  Enjolras took his little hand and held it tight.

            “Don’t worry, Sunshine.  I promise everything will be okay.”

            “Will Uncle Joly cut me open like this?” he asked, drawing a line down his throat with his finger.  Enjolras shook his head.

            “Nope. Nothing is getting cut at all. They’re just going to open up your mouth and take out your tonsils.”

            “That’s it?”

            “That’s it.”

            “But how do they get out the tonsils?” he asked, still crying.

            “I’m not sure, to tell you the truth, René, but your Uncle Joly is going to do the whole thing, and he’s going to take very good care of you, I promise.”

            “I don’t want to, Daddy, I want to go back home and go to sleep.” He said. His operation was to begin at 6:30 in the morning, and they had to be at the hospital an hour early. It was only about 4:15, and René was exhausted.  Between the coughing and apnea, he hadn’t had a good night’s sleep in weeks.

            “I know, baby, but just as soon as we get to the hospital, you can go back to sleep, alright?”

            “But I have to stay awake because they’re going to take out my tonsils.” He cooed quietly, his bottom lip sticking out as he frowned.

            “They put you to sleep, Bud.” Grantaire explained from the drivers seat. “You won’t even know it’s happening, and when you wake up, it’ll be all finished.”

            “I want to see though.” René said.

            “They have to put you to sleep.  Don’t worry, Baby, Papa and I will be right there with you the whole time.

            “No I still want to go home.” He insisted, resting his head on Enjolras’ shoulder as he sat in his booster seat. 

            “We’ll go home as soon as we’re finished.”  He ran his hand through René’s hair, and he shortly fell asleep again.

 

—o0o—

 

            “Uncle Joly I don’t want the happy gas!” René shouted, pushing away Joly’s hands as he attempted to place the mask over René’s mouth and nose.

            “I know, buddy, but I promise it doesn’t hurt!  You just have to sit and breathe, and that’s it!”

            “No I don’t want it!” he cried.  He tried to retreat into Grantaire’s lap, but Grantaire held him still as Enjolras held his little hand.  “No let go!” he shrieked, kicking against Grantaire’s hold.

            “René you need to be brave.” Grantaire said, near tears himself. He couldn’t stand to see his little boy so distraught.  “Nothing bad is going to happen to you, I promise.”

            “No! Daddy tell Uncle Joly no!” he pleaded. Enjolras felt horribly guilty, and wiped his eyes on the back of his hand.

            “Listen, Sunshine, Uncle Joly is going to put the mask on your face—”

            “No Daddy tell him no please tell him no!”

            “—René listen to me.” Enjolras said as calmly as he could, taking René from Grantaire’s lap and sitting him down on his own. René hugged him around the neck, burying his face in his daddy’s shoulder, getting as far away from Joly as he could. Joly sat and waited patiently. He went through this all the time, but that didn’t make it any easier.  He always said the most difficult part of his job was watching how scared he made little kids.

            “Can you look at me?” Enjolras asked, rubbing René’s back. He shook his head. “Sunshine I need you to look at me.” He said again, pushing René off his shoulder slightly.  René did as he was told, but his breathing was hurried as he continued to sob.  “I need you to take a deep breath with me, okay?  And now I need you to listen to me.”  René looked around the room nervously.  “René listen to me. Me and your Papa love you so much, and Uncle Joly loves you so much, and we’re doing this because we love you and we want you to get better.  Now we’re going to put the mask on, and I’m going to hold you right here, and Papa is going to hold your hand, and nothing bad is going to happen to you. You’re going to be nice and safe and cozy with me and Papa and Uncle Joly.  Do you understand?”  René sat quietly for a moment before nodding.

            “I got you a blankie!” Joly said, draping a pale blue blanket decorated with rubber duckies over René.  Joly hated the recycled hospital blankets they made the kids use, both for comfort reasons, and because of his borderline irrational fear of germs. He always gave kids a brand new, fuzzy blanket if they had to be in a bed, even if it was just for something quick—like a tonsillectomy.  René pulled the blanket tightly around his little shoulders. “You can keep the blanket on, and you can stay in your daddy’s lap, and I’m just going to put the mask over your mouth, okay?” Joly said with a smile.  René nodded slowly and reluctantly, and Joly placed the mask over his face gently, holding it there.

            “There you go, René!  Not so bad, right?” Grantaire smiled.  René sniffled and Enjolras wiped the tears away from his big blue eyes.

            “Now all you have to do is breathe like normal, okay?  Would you like your elephant?” Joly asked, offering René his favorite stuffed animal.  He took it willingly and settled down against Enjolras.

            “I want Daddy to do it.” He said, placing his little hand on Joly’s as he held the mask in place, attempting to pull his fingers off.

            “Your daddy can do it with me, okay?” Joly said.  Enjolras placed his hand on the mask and René was content. He sighed, which seemed to give him a good dose of the nitrous oxide.  His eyes became heavy.

            “Do you feel a little better now, René? Joly asked. 

            “It feels nice.” The little boy admitted, his voice slightly too high, with a goofy sort of swing to it.  Grantaire laughed lightly as René’s eyes fluttered closed.  Joly took his little arm in his hand and carefully slipped in the anesthetic, placing a piece of tape over the needle.

            “Alright. We’re in business.” Joly said with a smile.  “Just put him on the bed, and we’ll have him out in about an hour.”  Grantaire stood and took René from Enjolras, placing him onto the operation table, blankie, Elephant, and all, running a hand through his piping curls.  Enjolras gave his little hand a rub.

            “Bye Sunshine!” Enjolras cooed sadly.  “We’ll see you in a bit.” 

 

—o0o—

 

The next day, René was home and seated comfortably on the sofa, bundled up in his favorite green blanket AND his new duck blanket from Joly.  He sucked on an orange popsicle, the sticks of three more pops sticking out of a cup on the coffee table. Enjolras had pulled René’s hair into a stubby ponytail to keep his curls out of the sticky pops, the end sticking up like a pompom atop his head.  Spirited Away played on the TV, seeing as René had already watched Totoro and Howl’s Moving Castle, and he smiled as Chihiro held her breath crossing the bridge.

            “How are you doing, Sunshine?” Enjolras asked, leaning over the back of the sofa. He had been working on a court case on his laptop at the counter, stopping periodically to check on René while Grantaire was out buying more popsicles.

            “Good.” He replied, his little voice slightly raspy.

            “Does your throat hurt?”

            “Only a little bit.” He smiled.

            “Good. I’m glad.” He replied, playing with René’s stubby ponytail.

            “Can I put my hair in a ponytail all the time like you?” he asked. Enjolras laughed.

            “We’ll have to brush it next time!”

            “Does it look funny?!” he asked.  Enjolras snapped a picture of him on his phone and showed him.  René laughed, using his popsicle-less hand to grab the tuft of messy curls. 

            “Papa and I are so proud of you, René.  You were so brave yesterday.”

            “It wasn’t so scary.  I like popsicles.” He cooed.

            “Can I watch with you?” Enjolras asked, sitting down beside René, who nodded.

            “Mm hm!” he agreed.  “I like having my tonsils out.” Enjolras laughed again.


	23. Chapter 23

            “Did you put that dip thing in the oven yet, Apollo?” Grantaire asked as he poured a sleeve of crackers out onto a cutting board.

            “Yup it needs ten more minutes.” Enjolras replied, combing René’s curls carefully and slowly, shaping them into perfect golden pipes.

            “Daddy can I play now?” René asked when Enjolras finally finished, straightening the collar on René’s little button down shirt and tucking him in.

            “You may.  But keep your shirt tucked in and your hair nice!” he warned.  René scurried off to his bedroom to play with his train set and dinosaurs—because trains and dinosaurs most certainly interacted on a regular basis.

            “What time is everyone coming?” Grantaire asked, pouring a container of salsa into a bowl, then cutting up a block of cheese for the crackers.

            “I told everyone 4:30.  It’s 4:14 now.” He replied, consulting his watch.  “But Joly and Bossuet are always fashionably early, and Jehan said he had something for René, so they might be early too.”

            “I think we’re in good shape.  The ham is done, the chili’s done…” he looked inside the covered pot simmering on the back burner.  Grantaire prided himself on his awesome chili, and made it every time they had a gathering. This dinner party was no different. “You and René made those little corn breads, we have those little tiny pickles Jehan likes…I think we’re good.” He smiled, and Enjolras stood on his toes, placing his hands on Grantaire’s shoulder, boosting himself up for a kiss.

            “We haven’t had a party in a long time.” He said.

            “It’s fun.  I like cooking. I’m not very good at it, but I still like doing it.” He grinned.

            “And you have to tell everyone about your new job.”

            “I don’t think Bahorel or Montparnasse have seen me since I lost all this weight, either.” Grantaire added.

            Up until his sophomore year of high school, Grantaire had been a ballet dancer. Many of the studios in Paris wished for his attendance, and he was considered by many instructors to be a real protégé.  He had been lithe and strong until he began drinking when he was 16.  That coupled with his depression and the stress of foster housing caused him to gain almost sixty pounds in high school, effectively ending his ballet career. Last summer, however, Grantaire decided to finally get back to dancing.  He found a newspaper clipping in a photo album from a ballet competition he won, and remembered how much he used to love it.  He remembered how happy it used to make him, despite his crappy childhood.  After that, he began a strict work out and diet regimen to get back into shape. He went from 180 pounds to 145 pounds over the summer and past winter.  Since summer rolled around again, he had been cast as the Nutcracker in a production of the Christmas ballet, and as Prince Siegfried in a production of Swan Lake, both professional shows. 

Between dancing and his illustration jobs, Grantaire was beginning to value himself, more than he had in all his life, and it had a positive impact on the entire family. That night at the party, he planned to tell everyone of his casting in the two prestigious shows. He also intended to tell everyone that he had been hired as a teacher at the local dance academy, and would be teaching everyone from very young children to adults.

            “I’m so proud of you, my dear.” Enjolras said with a smile.

            “Couldn’t have done it without you.” he replied, hooking his arm around Enjolras’ waist and pulling him into a kiss just as the oven timer went off.

            “That’s my spinach dip!” Enjolras said, pulling on an oven mitt and removing the glass dish.  Joly peeked around the door.

            “Are we late?” he asked.

            “Never, Joly.” Grantaire replied with a laugh—It was only 4:22.

 

—o0o—

           

            “Holy moley, R!” Montparnasse said as he entered, Enjolras holding the door for him and Babet, who was holding a toddler in his arms. “You look great!”

            “Thanks!” Grantaire replied with a smile, giving the man a hug.

            “This is Babet.  This is R, and you know Joly and Bossuet.” He said, turning to Babet with a smile.

            “Glad to see you’re doing better.” Enjolras said with a smile. Babet had been deployed with the military and taken prisoner for almost a year.  He was tortured and suffered extreme PTSD, but since being with Montparnasse he had improved drastically, and the two of them adopted a little boy from Egypt.

            “Thanks, Enjolras.” He replied quietly with a small smile.

            “And who is this?” he asked, smiling at the little boy in his arms.

            “This is Remi.” Babet replied lightly, giving the baby a little bounce in his arms. Montparnasse explained that Babet had been extremely quiet since returning from Syria, and that he rarely spoke. His own voice seemed foreign to him, and he always spoke quietly. 

Though he had hung around with Montparnasse and the rest of their gang in high school, and was one of Jehan’s tormenters, he was never as cruel as the others, and really just followed along.  Enjolras had felt sorry for him then, because he was stuck.  He couldn’t go against Montparnasse and the others, even though he really didn’t fit in with them.  He just joined in the torment for his own safety.  But things had changed, and Enjolras had forgiven Montparnasse and Babet for what they had done as teenagers.  Even Jehan, the target of their hatred, had willingly moved on.  In fact, Jehan gave Babet a hug when he and Feuilly walked in with Lyle, their little boy.

            “It’s wonderful to see you again, Lovely!” he cooed.  “Hello, little one!” he added, smiling to the baby.

            “That’s Remi.” Montparnasse said with a smile.  Eponine entered, then, and gave hugs to everyone.

            “I brought crackers!” she smiled.

            “There’s my little friend!” Joly said with a grin when Courfeyrac and Combeferre entered with Caroline, their little girl.  She had just turned one, and was walking very well, despite her prosthetic leg.  She had been born without her lower left leg, and had struggled walking at first, but with lots of help and encouragement, she was doing very well.  She and Joly had a special sort of friendship considering he wore a prosthetic leg as well.  He was Caroline’s pediatrician, and they saw each other frequently, both in and out of the hospital.

            She shouted joyously as he picked her up.

            “Hello little princess!” he replied, noting her nylon fairy wings, one of Jehan’s original creations, before gently placing her back onto the floor. “Mine has flowers today too.” He added, showing the baby his own prosthetic leg, which Grantaire had painted flowers on a few days before.  Caroline’s little leg was made of a printed plastic material, and was permanently floral and bright.  She clapped when she saw Joly’s.

            “Can you say hello to Remi, Caroline?” Combeferre asked as Babet placed the little boy down beside her.  They eyed each other for a long moment before Caroline waved, her other thumb in her mouth. Remi waved back.

            “How old is he?” Feuilly asked, watching as the toddlers played with a stuffed animal René had left out earlier.

            “He’s 19 months.” Montparnasse replied.

            “Caroline just turned one last month.” Courfeyrac said with a smile.

            “Caroline look what I have!” Lyle said, kneeling on the floor and showing the little girl her doll Combeferre had brought along.  She toddled to Lyle and hugged the cloth doll.

            “I see.” Remi cooed.  Caroline held the doll out for the little boy, who inspected it for a long moment before giving it a pat on the head.  Lyle laughed.

            “Lyle!” René called as he scurried out of his bedroom where he had been hiding. He wasn’t one for company, but he loved Lyle with all his little heart.

            “Hello René!” Lyle gave him a hug.  “This is Remi.” Lyle introduced.

            “Hi.” Remi replied with a smile.

            “Hello Remi!  I’m René!” he replied confidently.

Bahorel arrived next with a Tupperware container filled with deviled eggs—a favorite of Grantaire’s.

            “Bahorel! I’m so glad you could come.” Enjolras said, giving him a quick hug as he entered.  “Let me take those.” He added, taking the Tupperware into the kitchen.

            “Hey Bahorel,” Grantaire said with a little wave from where he sat on the sofa with Joly, Bossuet, Combeferre, Montparnasse, and Babet.

            “Hey. Wow R, you’ve…you look good.”

            “Lost almost 40 pounds.” He said with a little smile.

            “Nice. Hey ‘Parnasse. Oh I’m Bahorel, by the way,” he said to Babet, who sat quietly beside Montparnasse, snuggled under his arm.

            “Babet.” He replied, offering his hand.

            “Sorry we’re late!” Marius called from the door, his arms full with a cake box. “I accidentally used that Nair stuff instead of shaving cream and I got a really bad rash.”

            “We had to stop at the emergency room!” Cosette said with a little smile, holding Marius’ hand.  His face was in fact covered in red blotchy hives.

            “Doofus.” Eponine cooed from the corner where she sat with Roux, the cat. Cosette laughed.

            “He is a doofus, but he is my doofus and I love him.” She gave him a peck on the cheek.

            “It looks like you have lots of red flowers painted on your chin.” Lyle said with a smile, standing and inspecting Marius’ face.  Lyle was very tall, though he was only 13, and stood at 5 foot 8 inches tall.

            “Lyle, want to draw pictures?” René asked.  The little boy wasn’t one for big parties.  Though he loved everyone there, everyone together and in his house made him a bit nervous.

            “Yes please.” Lyle replied with a smile.  Though he was 13 and René was only six, they got along very well, and usually played during get-togethers.  Crowds made Lyle nervous as well, and he was glad to get away from everyone.  He and René retreated into the little bedroom where René kept all of his art supplies at a table and shelves in the corner.  He had taken quite a liking to the arts, and loved to draw and paint. Though he looked like Enjolras, he was a perfect mix of both of his parents—artistic and slightly withdrawn like Grantaire, headstrong and open-minded like Enjolras.

 

Back out in the living room and kitchen, everyone spoke and laughed together in bunches.  Courfeyrac and Montparnasse talked extensively about their little ones as Babet quietly sat and held his hand.  Joly spoke with Combeferre about Caroline’s progress and other funny things that had happened in their shared line of work.  Combeferre shared a story about a woman who came to the emergency room claiming her son had a fever of 190°C. 

            “She told me that she could not find her thermometer, and so she set her kitchen oven to 375°F, held one hand to the stove, and the other to her son’s head. By that reasoning, she estimated her son’s temperature to be around 190°C.”  Joly laughed at the ridiculous story.

            “Once I had a little boy wake up from a tonsillectomy and ask if he could have his tonsils ‘in a pickle jar’ so he could take them home.” They both shared a laugh.

            “Dinnertime!” Enjolras called, taking the ham out of the oven with a grin.

 

—o0o—

 

            “Professional theater?” Montparnasse asked after Grantaire made his little announcement.

            “Yeah…I mean…yeah it’s professional.” He smiled meekly, his face glowing red. He wasn’t fond of talking about himself, especially putting himself on any sort of pedestal. Grantaire may have been cynical and a little rough around the edges, but he was always humble.

            “That’s amazing!” Joly smiled.

            “Yes we’re so proud of you, Lovely!” Jehan cooed.

            “It’s perfect!  We were going to see about lessons for Caroline.” Courfeyrac said with a grin, bouncing the baby girl on his knee.  “When she got a little older, I mean…”

            “I don’t see why she wouldn’t be able to.” Grantaire smiled, offering the little girl his hands.  She leaned into him with a big grin, and Grantaire lifted her up.  He began to dance across the small living room floor, spinning and turning gracefully in his socks.

            “I know you, I walked with you once upon a dream!” he sang, much to Caroline’s delight—Sleeping Beauty was her favorite.  “I know you!  The gleam in your eyes is so familiar a gleam!”  Though very good at dancing, Grantaire was not a good singer, and Lyle couldn’t help but giggle at his gravelly voice.

“And I know its true, that visions are seldom all they seem,” Enjolras joined in.  Enjolras, on the other hand, had a beautiful voice. He sang often, and loved musicals, though few knew it.

“But if I know you, I know what you'll do!  You'll love me at once, the way you did once upon a dream!” he finished, and Caroline hugged Grantaire around the neck, giggling and cooing.

“Me!” Remi piped, hopping from Montparnasse’s lap.

“Remi—” he began to scold, but Grantaire had already scooped him up, the little boy in his left arm, Caroline in his right.  He began to dance again, twirling them both around.

“Out there! Living in the sun!” Grantaire began. René smiled.

“Give me one day out there! All I ask is one!” he sang in his little voice from where he sat beside Lyle.  The Hunchback of Notre Dame was René’s favorite Disney movie, and he knew all of the songs.  He and Enjolras sang them often.  Remi and Caroline were both giggling, Remi with his arms up in the air, Caroline snuggled against Grantaire, kicking her little legs as they danced.

“You’re a very good dancer, Uncle R!” Lyle cooed with a giggle, hugging his skinny knees to his chest.

“My Papa is the best dancer!” René added as Grantaire put the little ones down.

“My goodness, Caroline! It is _way_ past your bedtime!” Combeferre said, scooping up the little girl and giving her a hug.  “Are you ready to go night-night?”

“Jehan is.” Feuilly said with a chuckle.  Jehan was asleep against his shoulder.  Lyle popped up and gave his daddy a tap on the nose.  Jehan’s eyes fluttered open.

“I fell asleep, didn’t I?” he laughed.

“Alright. Come on, Prouvaires!” Feuilly said, standing up.  “Thanks Enj. Congrats, R.” he smiled.

“We’ll see all of you soon! Our house next time!” Jehan said.

“Bye!” René cooed, running and hugging Lyle.

“Good night, René!”

“We should head home too.” Courfeyrac said, standing with his cane.  Combeferre rocked Caroline in his arms.

“Goodnight, everyone!” he said, holding the door for Courfeyrac.

“Nice to meet you!” Montparnasse called after them.

“It’s 10:40, ‘Parnasse.” Babet whispered, taking his hand as he held Remi.

“That late? We have to get the little munchkin to bed!”

“Marius and I should be going too.”  Cosette smiled. “Thank you so much, Enjolras! And Grantaire, we’re so proud of you!” Grantaire smiled.

“Thank you for coming!” Enjolras cooed as the remainder of their dinner guests left.

“That was good.” Grantaire said with a smile, looking around their little apartment at the catastrophic mess of bottles, glasses, paper plates, and dirty dishes. Enjolras sighed heavily.

 

—o0o—

 

            “Remember when I used to lay on your belly, Papa?” René asked as Grantaire sat beside him in his bed, reading their nightly chapter of Harry Potter.

            “Yup. You were a little guy then.” Grantaire replied.

            “And you were bigger too I think.” René added.  Grantaire smiled.

            “I lost a lot of squish, huh?”  René chuckled.

            “You’re not comfy to lay down on anymore.  Now you’re like Daddy.” René demonstrated, putting his head on his papa’s chest.

            “I’m not as small as your daddy is!” Grantaire smiled. 

            “But you’re stronger than him, I think.  You could pick up Caroline _and_ Remi! And Daddy can’t dance but you can.”

            “Daddy is a good singer, though.  I think Daddy should do shows like me too.”

            “But Daddy is a lawyer.”

            “I know.  And he likes being a lawyer, so I guess he won’t do shows, huh?”

            “No. Daddy will have to only sing for us.”

            “We get him all to ourselves, huh?” Grantaire smiled.

            “Mm hm!” René agreed, snuggling up against Grantaire’s shoulder.

            “So who do you think is the heir of Slytherin?” Grantaire asked, closing the book and putting it down on the night table.

            “I think it’s Malfoy.  He isn’t nice and he’s in Slytherin, so it’s him.”

            “But what about Harry?  Harry was supposed to be in Slytherin, but he asked to be in Gryffindor, remember?. What if he’s the heir of Slytherin?”

            “No Harry is nice so it can’t be him.”

            “I feel ya’.” Grantaire agreed with a nod.  Though he had read the books a dozen times, he didn’t want to spoil them for René.  “Sleepy?”

            “Yes it’s really late!”

            “Almost midnight!”

            “You have to go to sleep too you have to practice your show tomorrow. Saturday, right?”

            “Yup. I better get to bed.” He stood and kissed René’s curls.  “I love you, Sunshine.”

            “I love you too, Papa.”


	24. Chapter 24

            “How was rehearsal today?” Enjolras asked as Grantaire came in, his bag slung over his shoulder, his hair falling out of the stubby ponytail it had been in. He yawned.

            “Good.” He sat down on the bed, stretching his arms above his head and removing his shirt, leaving him in only his black leotard and tights.

            “I missed you today.  You said you’d be home by six.” He said sadly, resting his head on Grantaire’s shoulder.

            “Sorry. We’re getting close to showtime. We have to rehearse.”

            “I know, but…Friday is my day off, and I was hoping we could, I don’t know, go for dinner…” he said, looking up sideways to Grantaire, his tone slightly sarcastic.

            “Shit Enjolras, I’m sorry, I—”

            “We had been planning this for weeks, R.” he cut him off. “You promised me you would be home by six, and it’s almost ten.  Jehan came to pick up René at five, and I sat here all alone, waiting for you to come home, until Jehan brought him home at nine, when we planned on being back. Do you remember any of this? You said you put it into your calendar, but apparently not.”

            “I’m sorry, Enjolras, but there are people depending on me.  I couldn’t just leave.”

            “People have been depending on me as their lawyer for years, Grantaire, and never once have I inconvenienced you because of it.”

            “Whoa don’t go there, Enjolras.  I’ve been put out numerous times because of your job.  Don’t act like I’m the only one.”

            “Name one time, Grantaire.  One time I ever inconvenienced you.”

            “How about the time you called me from the courthouse to pick up René from preschool because you were running late?  I had to leave a customer interested in my illustrations.”

            “So picking up your child from preschool is an inconvenience to you?” Enjolras tossed back.  Grantaire rolled his eyes. “Do not roll your eyes at me!”

            “Oh sorry _dad_.”

            “You’re the one who just said picking up your son was an inconvenience!”

            “You and I both know that is not what I said.  And you are essentially saying that a stupid date is worth missing work for!”

            “ _Stupid date_? Have you totally forgotten what today is?”

            “No.”

            “Then what is it?”

            “It’s the day that we…that we um—”

            “You’re a real jackass, you know that?”

            “It’s not my fault you expect me to remember every single fucking thing! I can’t do anything without desecrating some dumb anniversary.  ‘Oh today we went grocery shopping together for the first time!  Oh, today we paid our taxes for the first time! Oh, you took a fucking _shit_ in my _bathroom_ for the first time!’  What is it now, Enjolras?  What ridiculous thing have I forgotten today?!” he shouted.  Enjolras’ face became hot and red, and tears welled in his eyes. He looked away, and Grantaire looked down at him from where he stood, his jaw set, his hands fisted.

            “What?!” Grantaire growled again after a long silence.  Enjolras shook his head and turned away, reaching for his glasses on the night table and busying himself cleaning them, trying to keep his tears from spilling over.

            “Fine. Don’t say anything. You win.  I give up!  You’re impossible, Enjolras, you know tha—”

            “Treatment.” Enjolras said quickly and simply.  Grantaire felt as if his organs had turned to lead—all except his heart, which leapt into his throat.

            “Seven years ago today, you picked me up from treatment for anorexia. And every year since then, we’ve gone out for dinner and ice cream on the anniversary.  But you don’t care.  So it doesn’t matter.” He explained, straining to keep himself from crying, struggling to keep the tears from his voice.

            “Enjolras, I’m so sorry…I didn’t realize…I just…I don’t know what to say.” Enjolras shrugged and shook his head, pushing his glasses up on his nose and standing, taking his pillow from the headboard and lifting his cat from where he slept on the duvet.

            “What are you doing?” Grantaire asked, near tears himself.

            “Going to bed.” Enjolras replied calmly, opening the closet and taking a quilt from the shelf above the hangers. 

            “What…? Where?”

            “On the couch.” He explained.

            “No. No I’ll take the couch, you stay here.”

            “A long time ago, I promised you I would never kick you out of this bedroom ever again.  And I do not break promises, Grantaire.  But I don’t expect you to _remember_ , since it was _seven years_ ago.” He left the bedroom and closed the door behind him, leaving Grantaire alone.

            Enjolras had just settled in on the sofa when René scurried to the end of the hallway, peeking around the corner silently as Enjolras lay in the dark. He recoiled behind the door when his daddy shifted on the couch, but quickly resumed his peeking, looking for a long while before retreating once again, sliding his back down the wall and sitting on the floor just around the corner.  He sighed, believing he hadn’t been spotted, but he should have known better. Enjolras knew everything. Always.  
            “René,” he called without question, not even bothering to look.  René slapped a hand over his mouth, thinking that would somehow make Enjolras forget his presence.  “René,” he said again, his tone slightly more commanding.  René sighed and stood, standing in the doorway with his stuffed elephant in his arms.  “Come here, Sunshine.” Enjolras smiled, sitting up and opening his arms to René, who sat in his lap.  “What’s wrong?” René wiped his eyes on his sleeve.

            “Nothing.” He replied, rubbing his elephant over his face, how he always did when he was upset.

            “Please tell me.  If you tell me, I can help you make it better.” He explained, running his hand through the little boy’s hair.

            “Are you and Papa going to get a divorce?” he mumbled into Enjolras’ shirt.

            “Of course not!  Why would you ever think that, René?  Papa and I love each other very much.  Almost as much as we love you.” he explained with a smile.

            “Then how come you were fighting?” he asked, his lip quivering. Enjolras wiped his eyes with his thumb.

            “Oh René,” he gave the little boy a tight hug.  “You’re right.  We shouldn’t have been fighting.  But sometimes even grownups get upset and…and we don’t know what to do or say, so we say things that are a little mean.  And that isn’t an okay thing to do.”

            “Then how come you did it?” he asked, snuggling his elephant.

            “I…I was angry with Papa for something very silly.  And I shouldn’t have gotten so angry.” He reflected. It really wasn’t anything he should have gotten angry over…an honest mistake.  It was his fault, really, and he was beginning to feel guilty.

            “You said feelings aren’t ever silly, though.  You said you have to say how you feel because then you can fix it, right?”

            “You’re right.  But I shouldn’t have gotten angry.  I should have told your Papa nicely instead of shouting.” He replayed the conversation in his head. Enjolras had always been good at arguing.  He could talk his way into and out of anything, shutting down arguments and even twisting words to turn things around…how he did with Grantaire.  It was a nasty courtroom trick, and he shouldn’t have employed it. It was nothing but mean. Of course Grantaire didn’t mind picking up René from preschool…of course Enjolras had inconvenienced him once or twice…or many times…

            “Yes you should have said it nice because it makes me sad when you and Papa yell.”

            “I know.  I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking about you or Papa, was I?”  René shook his head.

            “I love you so much, René.”

            “I love you too, Daddy.  And you love Papa, right?”

            “Yes. Yes I do.  I love Papa very much.” He smiled, pressing his lips to René’s golden curls as the little boy sat in his lap.

            “You should go back and go in your bed.” He cooed, playing with Enjolras’ ponytail, wrapping the curls around his fingers.

            “You think so?”

            “Mm hm.” René replied.

            “Papa is angry with me…I’m not sure if he’d like it if I went.” Enjolras explained. But René slipped from his lap and held his hand.

            “I will go with you so you’re not afraid.” Enjolras smiled and stood, letting René hold his hand to the bedroom door before knocking.

            “Grantaire?” he called.  There was no reply. “Grantaire I’m sorry…I was…I was stupid, I didn’t mean—” the door flung open, and Grantaire immediately pulled Enjolras into a tight embrace, holding him close, his hand in his hair.

            “God I love you so much.” He mumbled into Enjolras’ hair.  “I’m so sorry, Enjolras.  I’m so sorry.”  René stood with a broad smile, his hands on his little hips, quite proud of himself. Crisis averted, and all because of him!

            “You love each other right?” René said.  Enjolras and Grantaire turned to look at him, and Grantaire picked him up, letting him join in on the hug.

            “Yes. We love each other.” Grantaire smiled.

            “And we love you, Sunshine.” Enjolras added.


	25. Chapter 25

Enjolras combed René’s curls back into a little stubby ponytail, tying it with a yellow ribbon to match his button down shirt.

            “Daddy can we give Papa flowers?” he asked as Enjolras tucked away a few stray curls. René’s hair had gotten long, and though he usually kept it untied and wild, it looked much neater tied back, and tonight was a very special occasion.

            “Of course we can.  We’ll stop at Uncle Jehan and Feuilly’s on the way to the show, alright?”

            “Mm hm!” he smiled.  “Daddy are you going to get a nice shirt on too?”

            “I am. Would you like to pick it out for me?” Enjolras asked, opening the closet, pulling off his t shirt.

            “I like this one.” René said, pointing to a once-white shirt Grantaire had accidentally washed with a red sweater. Now it was pale pink, and Enjolras hadn’t worn it since.

            “You think I should wear that?” Enjolras asked, raising an eyebrow.

            “Yup it’s a pretty color.” René smiled.

            “Alright. Sure.  Why not?” Enjolras took the shirt off the hanger and put it on with a smile, finding a matching pink-and-blue striped tie and putting it on.

            “Daddy I want a tie too.” René said, standing on the bed and extending his arms for a hug.

            “Oh Sunshine, we don’t have any little ties for you…” Enjolras gave him a quick hug, then looked around, spotting a bright blue bowtie. “But this might work.” He smiled, and René grinned.  Enjolras tied the bowtie around his little neck. 

            “Now I’m fancy!” he cooed.  Enjolras laughed.

            “Yes you are!  All ready to go?” he twisted the baby’s hair into neat, golden pipes before helping him tie his shoes. Though he could do it himself, the laces on his dress shoes were slippery and awkwardly short—too hard for a six year old to tie correctly on his own.

            “Yes we have to go get Uncle Jehan and Feuilly and Lyle now!”

            “You’re right!  Come on, let’s go to the flower shop, alright?”  René nodded.

 

—o0o—

            “Oh René you look so nice!” Jehan cooed as the little boy entered the shop where he, Feuilly, and Lyle were waiting for Enjolras.  The plan was for them to follow Enjolras’ little red car to the theatre where Grantaire was performing his ballet. 

            “Thanks!” René replied, giving Jehan a hug.

            Jehan, Feuilly, and Lyle were also dressed in their best. Feuilly wore something similar to Enjolras, however his shirt was not pink—it was white and starched, probably by Jehan, and covered with a simple black blazer.  Feuilly wasn’t one for frills, and preferred simple to flashy. He did, however, sport a brand new pair of black Chuck Taylor sneakers under his suit pants, giving the entire ensemble a little Feuilly flair.

            Lyle wore a vintage poet sleeved blouse Jehan had favored in high school, with lace sleeves and white flowers discreetly decorating the hems and collar. His long, slender legs were dressed in light kaki colored pants.  He wore yellow flowers in his hair, fastened to a leafy halo Jehan had probably put together shortly before.  The ensemble was finished with a pair of pale yellow ballet flats.

            Jehan wore an antique, pastel pink blazer over a button down simply covered in a plethora of pale flowers.  His long, reddish hair was back in two French braids that met at the nape of his neck and gathered into a thick ponytail.  A collection of small flowers resided behind his left ear, pinned to his braid. On the bottom he wore wide-legged pants that looked more like a skirt when he stood still, as well as a pair of lacy oxfords nearly covered by the hem.

            “And Lyle looks flawless, as always.” Enjolras said with a smile. Lyle shrugged and blushed.

            “Uncle Jehan we need some flowers for Papa!” René announced.

            “Of course!  Why don’t you come back and choose some?” Jehan offered, taking René’s hand and leading him back to the greenhouse.  Lyle followed with a smile, always happy to find an excuse to wander the rows of happy flowers. Feuilly smiled, crossing his arms and standing tall.

            “Lyle is just like Jehan.  It’s like looking at a little copy.” He said to Enjolras in his quiet, gruff voice, his gold tooth glinting in the happy glow of the lanterns hanging from the ceiling. Enjolras laughed.

            “He is.  It’s like seeing Jehan as a kid again.  Only Lyle is taller.”

            “He’s tiny, though.  If I put my thumbs and fingers together, I can reach all the way around that kids waist.” Feuilly said, demonstrating.  Between his massive hands and Lyle’s tiny middle, it wasn’t hard to believe. Though Jehan was short and slight, Lyle was very willowy, and at nearly six feet tall, he could place his chin on top of Jehan’s head.  Even so, his demeanor and the way he held himself made him appear smaller. When he was standing away from other people, one would guess his height to be no more than five feet—small for a 14 year old boy—when in reality he was closer to five foot seven.

            “René looks like you.  He always did, but now it’s easier to see.  It’s not just the hair anymore, like when he was a baby.” Feuilly noted, watching as René stood on his toes, pointing to a specific flower that Jehan cut and handed to him along with the rest of the blooms he had chosen, all of them mismatched and more or less random.  Lyle chose flowers for their bouquet, choosing pale blooms with ferns and leaves.

            “Daddy look!” René called, carrying his armful of flowers.

            “Wow, René!  Those are beautiful! Papa will love them.” Enjolras replied. “Ready to go?”

            “Yup.” Feuilly replied, holding the door for Lyle, René and Enjolras. Jehan gave him a kiss on the cheek as he passed.  Feuilly smiled, following him out to their car.

 

—o0o—

 

The reserved family seats were front and center, and René was overjoyed.  Enjolras was a big fan of musicals, and he often brought René along when he saw shows, but the little boy had never been so close: only three rows back from the pit orchestra.      “Lyle look at that light!” René cooed, pointing to the silhouette of the spotlight in the shape of a swan projected onto the deep blue curtain. Lyle smiled from his seat beside René.

            “It’s a swan.” He explained.

            “Because this is Swan Lake right?”

            “Yup!” the lights went down, and René nearly bounced out of his seat with excitement.  Enjolras placed his arm around the baby’s shoulders to keep him still.

            “You have to be still and quiet, otherwise you’ll distract Papa!” he whispered.

            “Okay,” René said with a little nod.  The orchestra slowly built, and Lyle snuggled up against Jehan’s arm, holding his hand.  Though the music was more or less calm and tame, Lyle was still put on edge by the booming drone that seemed to reverberate.  He jumped when the trumpets joined the din, and Jehan gave his hair a little kiss to calm him down. His smile returned when the curtain lifted, revealing a row of dancing girls in pretty dresses, and young men dancing with them in neat circles.  René gasped and knelt up on his knees when Grantaire made his grand entrance; he played Prince Siegfried, the lead male role, and René had never seen his papa in costume before.

            He gazed up in wonder as Grantaire danced, his movements graceful and precise. He wore a blue jacked, gilded and jeweled, far more complex than those of the other men dancing with the women. Below he wore a pair of white tights and his ballet shoes, his legs exceptionally strong.  Enjolras smiled, watching intently as Grantaire glided across the stage on his toes, soundless, as if walking on a cushion of air. Feuilly leaned forward and mouthed ‘nice ass’ to Enjolras with a thumbs up.  Jehan gave him a slap on the arm and Lyle giggled, covering his mouth with his willowy hands.

            René only gazed up in awe at the dancers—at his Papa—a smile on his face and wonder in his eyes.  Grantaire risked a wink in René’s direction in a moment of quiet at he sat in a chair at the edge of the stage, the dancers putting on a show within the show for Prince Siegfried’s enjoyment.  René was overjoyed and pointed, tapping Enjolras’  arm as it leaned on the armrest between their chairs.  Enjolras look his wrist gently and guided it down and held his hand.

            “Don’t point, Sunshine.  You have to be still and quiet, remember?”  René nodded, his cheeks red.

 

—o0o—

 

The show went off without a hitch, and afterwards, Enjolras, René, Feuilly, Jehan, and Lyle all walked to the hallway backstage, just beside the door to the dressing room where the cast members would come out once they were changed.  Every time the door opened, René’s heart leapt into his throat, expecting to see his Papa. But many people came out before he did. Even so, all of them were very friendly and polite.  Enjolras knew a few of them from the studio, and they said hello.

            “Did you enjoy the show, Enjolras?” one of them women asked as she rounded the corner, her face still covered in bright stage makeup, though she wore street clothes—sweatpants and a t shirt.

            “It was wonderful!  Everyone did a great job.” Enjolras replied.

            “And you must be René!” she said, crouching down to look the little boy in the eye. He nodded shyly. “Your Papa talks about you all the time! He loves you so much!”

            “We’re very proud of him.” Enjolras added, running his fingers through René’s little ponytail, shaping the curls back into neat pipes.

            “I saw the show as a child, but this most certainly surpassed that performance.” Jehan said softly with a smile.            

            “Thank you very much!  I’m so glad you came! You are friends of Grantaire’s?”

            “Yup,” Feuilly replied simply, as was his way.

            “This is Jehan Prouvaire, Feuilly, and their son, Lyle.” Enjolras introduced.

            “I’m Colette.  It is good to meet you!” she smiled.

            “I liked your costumes.” Lyle dared to speak, his cheeks red, his voice soft.

            “Thank you.  It’s fun to dance in skirts that are swishy!” she replied, seeing Lyle’s nervousness. “I like your shirt.” Lyle’s blush deepened.

            “Thanks.” He cooed, leaning against Feuilly.

            “Have a good night, everyone!  Grantaire should be out in a minute.  He has a lot of costume stuff to take off!” she waved as she left.

            After a few more actors and short conversations, Grantaire stepped out of the dressing room, and René immediately jumped into his arms.

            “Did you like the show, Sunshine?” he asked.  “You look so nice!  Daddy got you all spiffed up!”

            “No you got spiffed up!” René retorted, running his hand over Grantaire’s hair, flattened with product and only allowed to curl at the nape of his neck. His face was covered in stage makeup, his eyes sparkly and bright.  He laughed.

            “I guess I did, huh?”

            “Nice job, R.” Feuilly smiled.

            “Thanks! It was fun!  Only twenty more shows to go!” he joked.

            “Goodness that’s a lot!” Jehan said.  “How often?”

            “Uh…There’s a Friday night, a Saturday matinee, a Saturday night, and a Sunday matinee every week for five weeks.” He recited.  “Then we go on tour, but I’m staying here. My understudy is taking over the part.”

            “How come you can’t go on tour?” Lyle asked.

            “I don’t want to.  I want to stay home with my Sunshine.” He nuzzled René’s hair as he held the baby in his arms. Enjolras gently pulled out his stubby ponytail, since Grantaire more or less ruined it with his nuzzle. The baby shook out his hair, his dandelion fluff returning.  “Plus I want to get back to painting.  My whole life has been ballet!  I want to make things.” Enjolras stood on his toes and gave Grantaire a kiss.  Lyle yawned.

            “Alright, Prouvaires.  Time to move out.” Feuilly said.  “Night you guys.”

            “Good job, Uncle R.” Lyle smiled, giving Grantaire a hug.

            “We love you!” Jehan added.

            Grantaire walked out to the car with Enjolras and René, hopping into the passenger seat.

            “Did you like the show?” he asked René.

            “Yes a lot!” he replied.  In truth, he began to get antsy about an hour in, and fell asleep before the end, but that’s okay.  He enjoyed himself for at least the first hour and certainly loved seeing his Papa backstage after the show.  “Papa?”

            “What’s up, Sunshine?”

            “Can I take Ballet lessons like you?”

            “If you want to.” Grantaire said with a smile.  René was a bit of a scatterbrained little boy, and he was always up for trying new things. The problem was, he never followed through: swimming, football, school newspaper photographer…But even so, Enjolras and Grantaire let him try anything he wanted to.  He was bound to find something he liked some time.  “You can start coming to classes with me, alright?”

            “Okay!” he smiled.  “Maybe I can be a dancer like you are!”

            “I thought you wanted to be a lawyer like Daddy.”

            “Or an artist.  You always say you want to be an artist.” Enjolras added.

            “I can do all of them!” he announced.  Enjolras laughed.

            “You can do whatever you want to, René!” he said.


	26. Chapter 26

It was a regular Wednesday morning when Grantaire got the phone call.  He had been painting an commission in his small studio space, but stopped to pick up his cell phone, puzzled when he didn’t recognize the number—his illustration business was advertised with the home phone, and he rarely got calls from anyone besides friends and family on his cell phone.

            “Hello, this is Grantaire.” He said, his hands covered in paint.

            “Does someone by the moniker ‘R’ use this phone?” an unfamiliar voice asked.

            “Yeah that’s me.  It’s like a nickname…may I ask who’s calling?”

            “Yes, my name is Claudia Duchamp, I’m from the Pitié-Salpêtrière Hospital located on the Boulevard de l'Hôpital,” Grantaire felt his heart turn to lead. “Enjolras has been in a car accident, and you were the first number listed in his cell phone.  Is there any way you co—”

            “Is he alright?” Grantaire broke in, panicked.  “Why didn’t he call?  Is he alive?  Oh my God…” he stood from where he sat at his easel and grabbed the keys to the Vespa off the hook by the door.

            “He is alive, and he is expected to come out of surgery shor—”

            “He’s in surgery?  Why? What for?” he babbled as he hurried down the stairs.

            “Please calm down, Monsieur.  He is expected to recover.  We just need someone to come to the hospital to sign some paperwork and to be with him when he wakes up, if you’d like.” 

            “Yeah…Yeah okay I’ll be there in a minute.” He said, slipping his phone into his back pocket and giving the engine a kick, hoping it would turn over on the first try.  It didn’t—it never did—and he gave it another kick, and another, until finally the engine sputtered to life. He walked the scooter out of the driveway and sped away before Combeferre could call from the porch to ask what was wrong.

 

Grantaire arrived at the hospital in record time (actually, it was a miracle he didn’t get pulled over) and ran to the counter at the front of the building.

            “My husband Enjolras was just admitted.  He was in a car accident and he’s in surgery and I need to see him or his doctor or something.  Please just—” the nurse at the counter took his hand and smiled, stopping his babbling.

            “It’s alright, Monsieur.  I will bring you to the OR waiting room, and you can ask for him there, alright?” she explained.

            “Yeah. Yeah okay.” He agreed, wiping the tears from his eyes.  He followed the woman through the hallways until she finally opened a glass-front door leading into a sterile-looking waiting room with stark white walls and chairs lined up awkwardly against the walls.  Grantaire walked up to the woman at the counter in the room. The tag on the desk read ‘Claudia Duchamp’.

            “Hey, uh…I’m Grantaire, you called me a few minutes ago for Enjolras. Is he alright?” he asked as calmly as he could, though he felt his voice wavering.

            “Yes. He’s doing well, but he’s still in surgery.  He should be out in about an hour, if you’d like to do the paperwork now.” She smiled.

            “Alright.” Grantaire agreed, taking the clipboard and pen from the woman and sitting down with a nervous sigh.

 

            “Medications…Shit what does he take?” Grantaire asked himself as he read the questions on the sheet of paper.  “Bupropion…No that’s mine.  Citalopram. That’s it…how much? Fuck.” His mind was racing. He couldn’t think. His eyes darted to his wrist watch: 10:43.  René was done first grade at 2:00. Should he bring him to the hospital? He didn’t want to worry the little boy, but surely Enjolras would want to see him the moment he woke up…He shook his head and returned to the questionnaire.  He could think about René when he was finished.

            “Alcohol…no he doesn’t drink.  Smoking, drugs…no.  Suicide attempts, no. Reaction to anesthetic, no. Food allergies, no…” he continued until the numerous sheets were completed, then handed them back to the nurse at the desk.

            “Thank you very much.  You may wait here if you’d like, or you can leave and come back.” She smiled.

            “I just have to pick up my little guy from school.  Can I bring him to see his dad?” he asked.

            “Of course.” She replied with another smile.

            “Okay. Okay good…I’ll be back in about half an hour.” He said before leaving the waiting room and heading back out to the Vespa, puttering away towards René’s elementary school.

           

He walked into the office nervously, pondering what to tell René.  He was only six, and Grantaire didn’t want to make him upset, but he didn’t want to lie either.

            “May I help you?” the woman at the desk asked, seeming distracted.

            “Yeah…René is my little guy, I need to pick him up a little early. His dad is in the hospital.”

            “Sorry to hear that.  What relation are you to him?” she asked, thumbing through a rolodex to find René’s classroom number.

            “I…I’m his dad, too.” He explained.

            “Alright. Have a seat and I’ll call him down.” she smiled, dialing the teacher and speaking with her quietly for a moment. “He’ll be down as soon as he packs up his things.”

            “Thanks.” Grantaire said, signing out René on the sheet and sitting near the door. René smiled and gave him a hug the moment he entered.

            “Papa!” he cooed, dropping his backpack and jumping into Grantaire’s arms.

            “Hey, Sunshine.” He took René’s bag and held his hand, taking him out to the Vespa.

            “Papa what’s wrong?” he asked, noting Grantaire’s tenseness and unease. He was very observant, and always knew when something was up—just like Enjolras.

            “Um…First off, everything is okay.  Don’t be scared, okay?”  René nodded, frowning.  Telling him not to worry was usually a signal to begin worrying.  “Daddy was in a little car accident and he’s in the hospital. We’re going to go see him, alright?” René began to cry quietly.

            “Is Daddy okay?” he asked as Grantaire fastened the helmet onto René’s head—he didn’t think to grab the little helmet before going to the hospital, and didn’t want Enjolras to wake up without him there.

            “Yup. He’s just having a quick surgery, and we’re going to sit with him until he wakes up, alright?” He helped René onto the scooter, letting him sit in front so that he could hold him on with his arms.

            “Okay. What did he have surgery for?”

            “I’m not sure, buddy.  But we’ll find out together when he get there, okay?”

            “Okay.” Grantaire kick started the engine.

 

—o0o—

           

After waiting anxiously at the hospital for almost an hour, Grantaire and René were finally allowed back into the recovery room, where Enjolras lay, still asleep, on a hospital bed.  Grantaire was so relieved when he saw Enjolras’ arm in a cast. He had been brought into surgery—a broken arm.  There was also a brace around his neck and the bridge of his nose was bruised, but the nurse explained that his head whipped forward and he hit his nose on the steering wheel. She also explained that the accident was caused by someone running a red light.

            “He should be waking up any minute.” She smiled before leaving the room. Grantaire held René on his lap on a chair beside the bed.  The little boy gave his Daddy’s hand a tap.

            “Daddy.” He said, giving another tap, lifting his hand and playing with his limp fingers.  “Daddy wake up I want to see you!” he frowned.  “Papa how come he won’t wake up?”

            “There’s medicine that’s keeping him asleep.  We have to wait for the medicine to wear off.  Remember when you had your tonsils out and Uncle Joly gave you the medicine that made you go to sleep?” he nodded.  “That’s what Daddy has right now.  It’s the same thing.  He’ll wake up soon.  Hold his hand. That will make him happy when he wakes up.”  René nodded and tightened his grip on Enjolras’ thin fingers, waiting patently for him to wake up.

            After what felt like forever to René, Enjolras’ eyes fluttered open.

            “Hey Apollo.” Grantaire smiled, running his hand through his curly golden hair.

            “hmm…” Enjolras replied, closing his eyes again.

            “Daddy do you feel better now?” René asked with a smile, climbing onto the bed and sitting beside him.

            “Huh? You look just like me.” He said drowsily, reaching up with his good arm and playing with one of René’s curls.

            “Because I’m your kid!” René squealed with a smile.

            “Where’s my arm?” Enjolras asked, seeming mildly alarmed in his medicated stupor.

            “It’s in a cast.  It’s broken. Do you remember the car accident?” Grantaire asked.  Enjolras closed his eyes a second time.

            “It’s broken?”

            “Yup.” Grantaire chuckled lightly.  Enjolras was notorious for saying funny things when he came out of anesthesia, and he hoped his little laugh would put René as ease, for he seemed a little worried. Enjolras was normally very articulate, and seeing him like this was startling for the little boy.

            “Papa how come Daddy is saying weird stuff?” he asked.

            “Sometimes the sleeping medicine does that to you.  He’ll be okay in a little while.”  

            “You’re so handsome.” Enjolras said sleepily, gazing dreamily at Grantaire, reaching up and cupping his cheek in his hand.  Grantaire laughed.

            “Thanks, Enjolras.  You must be really out of it if you think I’m handsome.”

            “No Papa you’re handsome!” René insisted, taking Grantaire’s cheeks in his little hands. Grantaire mushed his lips together, making a fishy face.  René giggled, and by the time they turned their attention back to Enjolras, he was asleep again.

            “Did we make him mad?” René asked.

            “Nope. It’s just the medicine. Don’t worry.”

            The doctor walked in a moment later, and Enjolras’ eyes fluttered open at the sound of the door.

            “Good. You’re awake!  How are you feeling, Enjolras?” she asked, taking the clip board from the rack at the end of the bed.

            “Hmm…Sleepy.” Enjolras replied.

            “Do you think you can get up?” she asked.  Enjolras nodded and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. He stood with help from the doctor and Grantaire.

            “I have to go to the bathroom.” He mumbled, his eyelids heavy.

            “I’ll help you.” Grantaire said, looking to the doctor.

            “It’s just around the corner.” She smiled.  “I’ll stay with René.  Just call if you need help.”  Grantaire nodded, and René sat on the bed, uneasy.

            “Hello, René!” the woman said with a friendly grin.

            “Hi.” René replied lightly.

            “You look just like your daddy.  You both have such pretty hair!” she noted.  René shrugged.  Everyone said that. It wasn’t news. Even so, he found himself running his fingers through his curls.  “How old are you?” she asked.

            “Six.” He replied, still a tad nervous, though he knew his daddies were just around the corner.

            “Wow! You’re a very big boy!”

            “No I’m short all the girls in my class are taller than me.” He explained, missing the point.  He gazed dreamily at the poster across the room: a doctor standing with his arms crossed and the words “We’re here for You!” printed above his head.  René read the words in his head, taking a moment to be sure he read it correctly.  He liked reading, but he wasn’t very good at it.  He had to go for special help during reading time in school, but he was getting better, and Grantaire read to him every night.

            “That’s okay.  I was the tallest in my class, and I didn’t like it very much.” She explained. 

            “My daddy isn’t tall either so it’s okay.” He smiled.

            “Enjolras is your daddy?” she asked, trying to get the names straight. He wasn’t sure which was ‘daddy’ and which was ‘papa’.

            “Yes.” He replied, inspecting a small tear in the edge of the thin hospital blanket Enjolras had been under a moment ago.

            “And what do you call Grantaire?” she asked.

            “He’s Papa.” René explained.  He was still little enough that he felt strange thinking of Enjolras and Grantaire as anything besides ‘Daddy’ and ‘Papa’.  It was like ‘Enjolras’ and ‘Grantaire’ were nicknames they only used when they were with other grownups.  They even called _each other_ ‘Daddy’ and ‘Papa’ at home.

            “Ah, I see.  I like your shirt.” René looked down, smoothing his shirt and looking at the print. He had forgotten which one he was wearing.  It was a bright yellow shirt with a dancing robot in the middle—one of his favorites.

            “Thanks. I like robots. And dancing.” He explained very seriously.  The doctor laughed.

            “I like robots too.”

            “Hey what’s your name?  I said mine but you didn’t say yours.” He asked, a curious twinkle in his big blue eyes.

            “My name is Dr. LaRoux.” She explained.

            “Hey I have a cat named Roux!” he cooed.

            “How exciting!”

            “But what’s your real name, though?  Not your doctor name.”  She chuckled.

            “My _first_ name is Karen. Is that what you mean?”

            “Yup your first name, that’s what I meant.” He blushed.  “What’s on your shirt?” he asked, noting the pink shirt collar under her lab coat.

            “Oh. My shirt is just pink today.” She showed him her plain pink button down, and he nodded.

            “Can I listen with this?  I never heard a real one before.” He asked, pointing to the stethoscope around her neck. She chuckled again. René was beginning to wonder what was so funny, but he didn’t mind.  He liked making people laugh, even if he didn’t know what they found comical.

            “Sure you can!  Would you like to listen to your heart, or my heart?” she asked, carefully placing the earpieces into René’s ears.  He tugged at the cord; those are not comfortable!

            “My heart, then your heart, okay?” he said.

            “Okay. Listen.” She pressed the stethoscope to René’s chest, and he looked up at her, amazed when he heard the ‘ta-thump’ of his heart.

            “Does yours sound the same as mine?” he asked.

            “I’m not sure!  You’ll have to listen.” She pressed the round end piece to her own chest, and René smiled, listening quietly for a long moment before looking up.

            “Your heart sounds different than mine.  It says ‘ba-ba-bump’ instead of just one ba-bump’” he tried to explain.

            “That’s because my heart was a little bit sick when I was born. It’s called a heart murmur.”

            “Does that make you sick?”

            “No. My doctor said it was alright when I was little, and I have to check on it sometimes, but I’m not sick.”

            “Wait you have a doctor?” René asked, taking the pieces out of his ears. She nodded with a smile. “But you’re a doctor, so how come you have a doctor too?  Can’t you be your doctor?  I mean like…your _own_ doctor?”

            “I think very hard about my patients, so sometimes I forget about thinking about being healthy myself!  So I need a doctor to look after me sometimes.”

            “Oh okay…My uncle Combeferre is a doctor but he’s in the ‘mergency room.”

            “That’s exciting.” She replied.

            “And my uncle Courfeyrac was a doctor but then he was in a car accident and now he answers the phone at the doctor instead because his hands don’t work too good anymore.”

            “Did he bump his head?” she asked.  René nodded.

            “He has a cane too but he’s okay he likes tapping me with it like this.” He tapped the doctor’s head.

            “René, are you beating up the doctor?” Grantaire asked as he helped Enjolras back around the corner and into bed.

            “No I was showing how Uncle Courf bops me with his cane.  I want to hear your heart, Papa.” He said, moving along quickly, his little mind racing as it usually did, darting here and there too quickly for most to follow.  He placed the earpieces back and pressed the stethoscope to Grantaire’s chest and listened.

            “What’s the diagnosis, Doctor René Jehan?” he asked very seriously.

            “I think you’re going to live your heart sounds like mine.” The little boy smiled, and Enjolras laughed.

            “My Sunshine.” He said, feeling more awake.

            “Daddy can we go home now?  We can eat popsicles like when I had my tonsils out and we can watch Totoro and we can put your hair in a pom pom how you do with me so you don’t get it sticky from the pops, and—”

            “Settle down, René.  Daddy’s going to be a little sleepy for a little while.” Grantaire explained.

            “I think you’re able to leave now, if you’d like.  Just make sure he keeps the brace on for a few days. He has a little whiplash.” The doctor explained.  “Thank you for listening to my heart, René.” She smiled.  René handed the stethoscope back to her.

            “Thanks for sitting with me, Karen!” he said.  The doctor burst into laughter.

            “I like you, René.  You’re a spunky little guy! Have a great rest of the day. I’ll see you in three days.” She said, shaking Grantaire and Enjolras’ hands before leaving the room with a wave.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
~to be continued, I guess.  This got really long really quickly and I didn't want anyone to gag on the sheer volume of ridiculous words.  Woo!


	27. Chapter 27

Enjolras spent most of the following day on the couch. He had the rest of the month off from work on paid leave, and Grantaire took the day off to dote on him, so all was well.  René was off from school for teacher meetings, but Jehan, Lyle, and Feuilly took him to the museum of natural history, so Enjolras and Grantaire were left all alone.  
  
Enjolras was more or less out of his mind on pain medication, and he was almost completely immobile from his waist up, but he was still able to appreciate the hush that settled over the house in René’s absence. He was a good little boy, and didn’t get into very much trouble, but it was still nice to be able to sit down without the constant chime of ‘Daddy!’ or ‘Papa I need you!’ reverberating through the house.

            “You doing okay, Apollo?” Grantaire asked, leaning over the back of the sofa and giving him a kiss on the cheek.  Enjolras tried to nod before remembering the rigid brace keeping his neck stable. He had suffered a very minor spinal chord injury from whiplash, and turning his head even slightly could exacerbate it into something life threatening.

            “I’m alright.” He replied instead, lifting his good arm and running it through Grantaire’s hair as he continued to kiss his cheek and ear.

            “I love you.” he cooed.

            “I love you too.” Enjolras replied, a sleepy smile playing across his face.

            “I’m going to pull your hair up, okay?” he said, noticing the slick of sweat that had gathered at the nape of Enjolras’ neck. 

            “Wait what?” he replied, taking Grantaire’s hand and stopping him.

            “You’re neck is all sweaty from the brace and your hair is making it worse, so I’m going to pull it up.” He explained again, and Enjolras released his hand, allowing his golden curls to be pulled into a messy bun. “Have a sip of your water, okay?” he said, reaching for the glass on the table and guiding it slowly to Enjolras’ lips.  He took a sip, the icy water seeming to cool him down considerably for the inside out. He closed his eyes.

            “Feel okay?” Grantaire asked, worried.  He always worried when Enjolras wasn’t talking or his eyes weren’t alert. He wasn’t sure why, but it made him nervous.  He didn’t want anything to happen to him.

            “Yes.” Enjolras replied.

            “Good. I’m glad.” Grantaire sat beside him and let him rest his head against his shoulder, the neck brace prodding Grantaire’s upper arm uncomfortably, but he didn’t mind—as long as Enjolras was happy.

            “What are you watching?” he asked, looking to the TV, turning up the volume. Enjolras always listened to the television so low nobody could hear it except him. 

            “ _Bones_.” Enjolras replied shortly. Grantaire stuck his tongue out.

            “That dumb American crime show with the horrible acting?” he asked. Enjolras smiled sleepily.

            “I like it.” He retorted feebly, slurring slightly from the pain medication.

            “Why?” he asked.  It didn’t really matter, of course, but Grantaire just wanted to hear him talk. That was usually the reason for an argument—Grantaire asked some stupid, contrary question simply so he could hear Enjolras rebutting him.  He got a sort of high out of being proven wrong, and before René came along, they took the game rather far relatively often…But they knew it made René unhappy when they shouted at each other, so they more or less stopped their argument-turned-make-out-s when he began to get uncomfortable.  They loved René more than they loved arguing.

            But René wasn’t home, and Enjolras was doped up, and Grantaire couldn’t help himself.

            “I like the mysteries, I guess.” Enjolras explained.  
            “I’ve been watching it for three seconds and I already know that guy in the dumb tie killed the girl.”

            “How do you know?”   
            “I can just tell. It’s the hair cut. The murderer always has a freaky hair cut.  And he’s way too close with the lady detective.  He’s trying to throw her off.”

            “What if it isn’t him?”

            “It’s him.”  
            “But it’s not him.”  
            “How do you know it isn’t him?”  
            “Because that’s her assistant.” Enjolras chuckled.

            “Oh my God is that guy on fire?”

            “So it would seem…” Enjolras replied, closing his eyes.

            “Well who did that?”  
            “I don’t know yet. Maybe you should watch it and find out.”

            “Maybe I will.”  
            “Good, Monsieur ‘ _ugh this show is so dumb with bad acting!’_ ” Enjolras said, doing a mock-Grantaire impression. Grantaire leaned over and licked his cheek.

            “Why would you do that?!” Enjolras laughed, leaning away suddenly.

            “Because you always win arguments.  Even when you’re high as a kite.”

            “That’s my job.”

            “I know it is.”

            “I love you so much, R.”

            “I love you too.  More than you could ever know.” He replied.  “I was so scared yesterday.  I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

            “Don’t talk like that.  I’m fine.”

            “It’s true, though.  I need you.” a tear came to Grantaire’s eye, thinking about what would have happened if Enjolras had died in the car accident.  Grantaire would have melted into himself, imploding mentally.  He wouldn’t be able to take care of René. He would probably drink himself to death, in all honesty.   He would follow Enjolras anywhere, even in death.  He would have done something similar if anything happened to René. He hated to admit it, but Grantaire was so dependent upon them that he wouldn’t be able to function without one of them.  It would be like losing a part of himself, as corny as that sounded.  It would be like trying to survive without a head or trying to run with no feet.  It just wouldn’t work. Grantaire just wouldn’t work anymore.

            “I don’t know,” Enjolras began with a grin.  “Looks a lot like I need you right now, seeing as I can’t feed, dress, or clean myself.” He joked.  Grantaire chuckled, and held him tight.  
  
—o0o—

 

“Uncle Feuilly what’s that one?” René asked from where he sat on Feuilly’s broad, strong shoulders, patting his head to get his attention and pointing up to one of the tallest dinosaur skeletons in the room.

            “Uh…I don’t know.  We have to find the sign.” He replied looking around for the plaque.

            “Is it this one?” Lyle suggested quietly, fisting his hands in the sleeves of his thin summertime pull over.

            “Looks like it.” Feuilly smiled, scanning the room quickly for Jehan, making sure he hadn’t been left behind.  He had a tendency to wander off and go off on tangents when in museums, considering he was so easily distracted and small; he was easy to lose.  But Feuilly found him momentarily, looking at the fossilized plant specimens hanging in a long glass case against the wall. He turned around and smiled to Feuilly. Though he was hardly thirty, Jehan already had the beginnings of creases in his cheeks from smiling so constantly.

            “What’s it called?” René asked again when Feuilly became distracted watching Jehan. He was simply so pretty, in his yellow halter top, the ribbon at his neck falling delicately down his bare back. His hair was French braided and tossed haphazardly over his thin shoulders.  Everything about him was delicate and beautiful.

            “It’s called _D. carnegii_ , Diplodocus.” Feuilly read.

            “D carneg-ee…” René attempted.  “I think it’s D _Feuill-y_.” He smiled. Lyle laughed.  “What’s that called?” he asked, pointing to a display on the wall. Feuilly walked over, crouching down so René could see from his shoulders.  The glass enclosure contained a leaf trapped in amber.

            “ _Hymenaea protera_.” Lyle read. Jehan came over to investigate.

            “Oh it’s so pretty.” He said, inspecting the large lump of ancient tree sap, containing the leaves of an extinct tree—the same tree that created the sap. “I wish I could make something as beautiful as this tree did.” He mused.

            “It’s called Hymenaea Prouvaire-a!” René cooed.    
            “I think it’s ‘protera’!” Feuilly corrected with a chuckle.

            “No Prouvaire-a is better.” He insisted.  Jehan reached up and held his little hand for just a moment as he laughed lightly.

            “You should name all the fossils, René!” Lyle suggested.  “Find an Enjolras fossil.”  René looked around.  
            “hhhmmm…That one!” he pointed to a small raptor dinosaur.  Lyle laughed.

            “Why that one, René?” Feuilly asked, walking across the large hall to the display of the dinosaur.

            “Because it’s tiny but it’s still really strong,” he explained very seriously. Jehan smiled at the depth of his explanation, but he wasn’t surprised.  René may have been a little bit spacey, but he was very smart, and occasionally said things far beyond his years.

            “I think that’s a very good reason, René Jehan.” Jehan replied.

            “Which one is Aunt Ep?” Lyle asked, looking around himself.

            “I don’t know…But that one’s Bahorel!” he pointed to a triceratops.

            “Why is that?!” Jehan giggled.

            “It has poufy hair like he does!” he said, comparing Bahorel’s afro with the crest on the triceratops.

            “You’re so silly!” Jehan continued. 

            “That one is Papa.” He pointed to a duck billed dinosaur.  “It’s big and tall but it’s cuddly, not scary.” He looked to the illustration of the same dinosaur hanging beside the display.

            They continued through the museum, looking at all of the exhibits, matching up skeletons with friends, finding characteristics in common between the species and their friends and family.  Cosette was a delicate skeleton of an extinct bird called Archaeopteryx. Bossuet was a giant ground sloth because it had a smooth skull that resembled his bald head. Marius was a frog skeleton located just below Cosette’s bird, seeming to gaze up at it how Marius always gazed at his wife. Courfeyrac and Combeferre were two related species of extinct moose, one of them tall and thin with a long nose and big eyes, the other shorter with a fill-in antler cast from another specimen. René explained that the missing antler was like Courfeyrac’s brain injury and it made him a little bit different—another very profound thought that surprised Jehan.  Lyle was an imprint of a flower in a stone, fossilized and preserved forever.  They even found Feuilly, sort of…René decided one of the cave drawings exhibited looked like him. It wasn’t a fossil, but it still counted in René’s book.  “It has a ponytail!” he explained.  
            “I think that’s supposed to be his elbow…” Feuilly suggested, inspecting the drawing of the man shooting a bow and arrow. 

            “It’s a ponytail.” René insisted.

            “Okay.” Feuilly ‘agreed’.  Jehan and Lyle laughed.  
René’s favorite fossil-friend, however, was Joly. He decided that the dodo bird skeleton and artist sculpture were exactly like him, much to the amusement of Jehan, Lyle, and Feuilly.

            “Joly doesn’t look like a dodo bird!” Jehan giggled, snapping a picture as René inspected the skeleton in the glass display case.

            “No it’s Joly.  It doesn’t really look like him, but it’s him.”

            “How come, then?” Feuilly asked, holding Lyle in a comforting side-hug. The museum was crowded, and Lyle was becoming a little nervous.  Nothing a hug couldn’t fix.

            “He looks nervous.” René said, looking very critically at the sculpture of the bird. “And the white feathers look like his doctor outfit.”

            “I could see that.” Lyle replied with a nod.

            “You’re very good at this, Lovely.” Jehan said to the little boy with a smile, running a hand through his curls.

            They continued walking quietly for a good while, until a sign caught René’s eye towards the exit of the museum:  _SHOP_

            “Uncle Jehan was have to get Daddy a present so he feels better.” He announced.

            “I think that’s a wonderful idea, my love!” Jehan smiled, allowing himself to be pulled into the museum by the little boy, who held his hand. Feuilly and Lyle followed behind at a bit of a distance, talking about a display of butterflies they had passed, and how the pins stuck in all of the specimens made Lyle sad. Feuilly explained it was only for science, and that they had been sacrificed so that everyone could learn from them. Lyle wasn’t convinced, but helping René find a gift for Enjolras made him feel better.

            “I think we should get him this.” René said, standing in front of a full sized replica of an ancient Egyptian sarcophagus.

            “Yeah. Maybe he can sleep in your bed.” Feuilly suggested.  René laughed.

            “No it’s too big!” he cooed

            “Then you can sleep inside it and be a mummy!”

            “No I’m not a mummy I’m René!”

            “What about this?” Jehan suggested, wrapping a scarf with an African pattern around his thin neck dramatically, holding his chin high and closing his eyes in a regal pose. 

            “You look beautiful, Daddy.” Lyle smiled, giving Jehan a hug. It was funny; Lyle had started as a malnourished, scrawny little boy, adopted out of his abusive family by the Prouvaire’s.   Now, he was tall and thin, healthy and beautiful, towering above tiny Jehan, but still able to give him a proper, loving hug.

            “Thank you, my dear.” Jehan replied, returning to his usual shy, quiet demeanor, hanging the scarf back on the hook.

            “’Jolras would like this.” Feuilly called from the next row over, holding up a large blanket made in the style of the Inca people of Peru. It was woven from a soft material, and was predominantly red, with stripes, shapes, and even detailed figures made up of other colors here and there.

“Yes that’s good!” René smiled, clasping his hands and standing on his toes, a habit adopted from Jehan.

           “It’s so soft!” Lyle cooed, running his hands down the cloth. Feuilly folded it over his arm and purchased it at the counter.  René held it in his lap all the way home.

 

—o0o—

 

Enjolras was asleep on Grantaire’s shoulder when Jehan walked René back into the apartment, waving hello to Grantaire quietly as René scurried to his daddy, draping the blanket over him before Jehan could stop him.  He didn’t want to wake Enjolras, but it was to late, and Enjolras’ eyes fluttered open.

           “Hi Sunshine.” He said with a sleepy smile.  “What’s this?” he looked at the blanket.

           “We got you a new blankie at the museum!” he cooed, sitting beside Enjolras and snuggling up beside him, under the new blanket.  Grantaire smiled.

           “It’s pretty.” He said, admiring the handiwork.  The embroidery was obviously done by someone experienced—a real artist.

           “We thought it might make Enjolras feel better.” Jehan said with a smile from the door.

           “Thanks, Jehan.” He grinned again.

           “Yes thank you.  I owe you one.” Enjolras added. Jehan shrugged, and blushed for no reason—something he was wont to do.

           “Any time, Lovely.  Just call if you need anything else, alright?”

           “Alright.”

           “Goodbye, René Jehan!  We had so much fun with you!” Jehan said with a wave.  René ran to him and gave him a hug before he left.

           “Did the blankie make you feel better, Daddy?” René asked, returning to his spot beside Enjolras.

           “Much better.  Thank you, little love.”

           “Can you take this off?” he asked, tapping on the neck brace.

           “No. I have to leave it on.”

           “How come?”

           “One of the bones in my neck is a little broken and if I take this off it will get more broken.”

           “Then what happens?”         

           “I could be paralyzed.” He explained.

           “Like Uncle Courf’s hands?”

           “Sort of.”

           “Leave it on okay?”

           “Okay.” Enjolras smiled, wrapping his good arm around René. “I love you, Sunshine.”

           “Me too.” Grantaire said, playing with one of the little boy’s curls.

           “I like you guys too.” René joked with a nod.  “You’re pretty okay.”  
           “Glad you think so, because you’re stuck with us _forever_.” Grantaire grinned.  Enjolras laughed.

   
  
Feuilly: <http://i2.wp.com/knowledgenuts.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/04/99373800.jpg?resize=1024%2C537>


	28. Chapter 28

Enjolras’ recovery was slow, and even after he was allowed to take off the neck brace, and his cast was cut down to only half his arm, he was lethargic and a bit down.  He missed being able to move around normally, and he was tired of the constant ache and pain, even two weeks after the accident.  One afternoon, though, Grantaire made an announcement that seemed to brighten everyone’s spirits. 

            He had been hired by a theatre company in America to teach ballet classes for a month, and Enjolras and René would be joining him for the trip.

            “Do we take an airplane?” René asked, leaping into his papa’s arms.

            “Yup!” René hadn’t been on an airplane since he came home from America as an infant, and was very excited.

            “Are you sure you want us there?  I’d feel badly if we distracted you from your work.” Enjolras said, standing and pushing an inky curl behind Grantaire’s ear.

            “Of course.  I’d miss you too much if you stayed here.”  Enjolras smiled.

            “Can we go to New York City?!” René nearly shouted, jumping up on his toes. Grantaire picked him up under his arms and hugged him tight.

            “That’s exactly where we’re going.  Want to go to the Metropolitan Museum of Art?!” he asked.

            “Yes! And the Statue of Liberty!”

            “Do you know who gave the Statue of Liberty to America, René?” Enjolras asked as Grantaire put him down.  The little boy thought for a long moment before shaking his head, no.

            “The French did!” Grantaire exclaimed.

            “That was nice of us.” René smiled.

            “When do we leave, Love?” Enjolras asked.

            “6 July.” He replied.

            “Hopefully I’ll have my cast off by then!” Enjolras grinned.

 

—o0o—

 

6 July came far too slowly for René, but it did come. Enjolras crept into his bedroom at 3:00 am and placed a gentle hand on his little shoulder, pushing his curls off his forehead and giving him a kiss to wake him up.  He stirred, but his eyes did not flutter open.

            “René. Wake up, Sunshine! We have to go to the airport.” He explained lightly, giving his shoulder a little shake.  The little boy woke up and smiled.  “Get dressed, alright baby?  Papa and I are making quick breakfast, alright?”  Grantaire had been on cooking duty since Enjolras’ arm was broken. He still had to keep his lower arm in a brace that he was only allowed to take off to shower.

            “Okay.” René replied, his eyelids heavy.

            “Don’t fall asleep again!” Enjolras joked.  “The plane will leave without us!”  René slipped from bed as Enjolras closed his door, giving him some privacy. René opened his ‘pants drawer’ and removed a pair of pale pink shorts.  He pulled them on, leaning his forehead against the top of his tall dresser. His eyes fluttered closed, and didn’t open again until he began to fall.  He caught himself and shook the sleepiness from his head, closing the drawer and moving on to find a shirt.  He decided to wear his black shirt with a pink jellyfish in the middle. Nice and comfy for the long plane ride. He yawned and pushed his door open, stumbling into the kitchen, drunk with drowsiness.  Grantaire laughed as he pumped into the corner of the refrigerator.

            “You okay, Sunshine?” he asked.  René nodded and rubbed at his eyes, his hair a messy fluff around his head.

            “Come here, little love.  Let me brush your hair quick.” René sat down on the floor in front of Enjolras, who sat on the sofa, and allowed his hair to be neatened with the wide-tooth comb. Enjolras learned long ago that brushes were not meant for curly hair.  In fact, they didn’t even own a regular brush, save for the one Grantaire kept in his overnight bag—his curls were so wiry it really didn’t matter what he brushed them with—but Enjolras and René’s soft pipes were a different story.

            “Now you’re nice and handsome.” Grantaire smiled, handing René his slice of peanut butter toast.  He gave Enjolras the same, along with a kiss, before heading down to the car with last minute baggage—blankets, pillows, and other bedtime things.  René insisted on keeping Elephant under his arm instead of in his bag.

            “Daddy can I go to sleep again?” the little boy asked as he waited on the sofa for Enjolras to get dressed and comb his hair.

            “Wait until we get in the car, alright?  Papa will be back up in just a minute.”  René sighed. Maybe getting on an airplane wasn’t so much fun after all.  It was certainly not fun to wake up in the middle of the night, and it wasn’t fun to have to get dressed before the sun came up.

            Grantaire returned a moment later, taking René and carrying the six year old down to the car, buckling him into his booster seat.  He was asleep again before Enjolras closed the passenger side door.

 

—o0o—

 

René’s excitement was immediately rekindled as he walked into the airport, holding Grantaire’s hand as he tugged along his massive rolling luggage, the little boy’s own blue and yellow striped bag sitting on top.  Enjolras tugged his own luggage, as well as a duffle bag draped over his shoulder.  A carry-on bag with everything from puzzles to snacks to a comb—of course—was also hanging from his shoulder.  René held his elephant and had his little yellow backpack on, which contained his travel pillow and a blanket for the plane ride, as well as a few more toys to play with.

            They walked to the check in counter, and René peeked over the edge as Enjolras showed their tickets.  Grantaire placed their luggage onto the revolving belt.

            “Where are the bags going, Daddy?” René asked, watching as his little striped duffle was whisked away and into a dark tunnel in the wall.

            “They’re going to the airplane.” Enjolras explained.

            “Can we go to the airplane too?”

            “Not right now.  But soon.” He smiled.

            “Will our bags be okay?”

            “Yup. They’ll keep them nice and safe, and we’ll get them again once we get to America.”

            “All set?” Grantaire asked, taking the bag from Enjolras’ shoulder and carrying it himself.

            “All set!” René replied, taking his Daddy’s hand and walking to another part of the airport: long lines of people putting their bags through a tunnel of sorts.  René was apprehensive…There seemed to be a lot of dark tunnels in this place, and he hoped he wouldn’t have to go through one himself.

            “Take your shoes off, René!” Enjolras said, slipping off his own pair of Birkenstock sandals and placing them into a bin with Grantaire’s Chuck Taylors. René untied his sneakers and handed them to his Papa.  Then he watched as he and Enjolras put the rest of their bags into the bins, as well as his daddy’s wristwatch and their wedding rings.

            “What does that do?” René asked.

            “It’s an x-ray machine to make sure we don’t have any bad stuff with us.” Grantaire explained.

            “Did you bring bad stuff?”

            “Nope! But they still have to check.”

            “How come?”

            “It’s the rules.” Grantaire smiled and guided René by his shoulders towards the metal detector.

            “I’m sorry, Sir, but we have to check his stuffed animal.” A woman at the security gate said with a kind smile.  René looked horrified and held tight to Elephant.

            “But he doesn’t have any bad stuff!” René insisted.

            “Don’t worry, Sunshine.  He’ll just go through the tunnel with our shoes, and you’ll see him on the other end!” Enjolras explained with a smile.  “No biggie.”

            “But it’s dark in there.  Elephant will be afraid.” A tear came to his eye.  The woman at security gave an apologetic smile.

            “You can come over here and see him on the screen while he goes through, if you’d like.” She offered.  René wiped his eyes and nodded.

            “Thank you.” Grantaire said with a smile, sitting Elephant safely in a bin and walking through the metal detector.  René followed Grantaire, then walked around the x-ray machine to watch as Elephant made his way through.

            “That’s him on the TV!” René exclaimed with a smile.

            “You’re right!  And now he’s out with your Daddy!” the woman said, pointing to Grantaire.

            “That’s Papa.” He explained.  The woman chuckled lightly.

            “I’m sorry.  He’s safe with your _Papa_.” She corrected herself. “Have a nice flight!”

            “Thank you!” the little boy cooed, collecting his elephant and watching as Enjolras walked through the detector.  The light on the machine blinked red and an alarm went off. Enjolras stopped.

            “How come that happened, Daddy?” René called to Enjolras as he stood at the security gate.

            “Maybe this?” he asked, holding up the brace on his arm, showing the woman at security.

            “Maybe. Can you take it off?”

            “Sure…” he removed the Velcro strap and sent the brace through the x-ray machine. Enjolras walked through again, and again he set off the alarm.

            “If you could come over here, Sir,” she said, motioning for Enjolras to follow her off to the side.  She instructed Enjolras to spread his arms and gave him a pat down.  René watched, holding tight to Grantaire’s hand.

            “Are they going to make Daddy stay here?” he asked with a frown.

            “Nope. It’ll be fine.” Grantaire smiled. “There’s a pin in his elbow, could that do it?” Grantaire called to the security woman.

            “That will do it!” the woman said.  “I have to pat him down anyway, though.” She smiled.

            “Better safe than sorry!” Enjolras agreed.  René was relieved when Enjolras was allowed through the checkpoint, and they continued walking through the airport.

 

René was amazed at the number of restaurants, shops, and stores that they passed.  The building seemed more like a shopping mall than an airport, and he couldn’t help but stare as they passed.

            “How come there’s so much stuff here?” he asked, looking to Grantaire for an answer as he held Enjolras’ hand.

            “Sometimes you have to wait a long time for the plane, so they have stores to keep you busy.” He explained.

            “And sometimes you can’t bring certain things through the security, so you have to buy it over here.” Enjolras added.

            “Like what?”

            “Like drinks or food.  You can’t send those through the x-ray machine.”

            “How come?”

            “Just the rules.” Grantaire smiled.

            “There are lots of rules.”

            “It’s to keep everyone safe.  They want to make sure nothing bad gets onto the planes.”

            “But how come snacks are bad for the plane?” René asked, curious. There were so many strange things that happened at the airport, and he wanted to know everything!

            “Sometimes bad guys can make drinks and food into bombs or weapons to hurt people.” Grantaire explained, keeping his voice low.  He didn’t want anyone to hear him talking about bombs in the middle of an airport.  The fact that he was scruffy-looking didn’t help much either.  He was sure he looked sort of sketchy to begin with, though Enjolras assured him he didn’t, and didn’t want anyone to hold them up for something stupid.  It wasn’t unheard of for people to be held up at the airport for looking funny, as unfair as it sounded.

            “Like soda and Mentos?” René asked with a little chuckle, reminded of the time he and Grantaire had made a rocket out of a soda bottle and one of the candies.

            “Probably a little more dangerous than that, but yeah I guess!” Grantaire laughed as well.

            “That made such a big mess!” Enjolras shook his head, reminded of the sticky trail of cola left on the sidewalk in the aftermath of their rocket-powered car. He was pretty sure Courfeyrac had something to do with the entire escapade, but didn’t actually see the event, so he couldn’t be sure, but he also wasn’t sure how Grantaire had come up with the idea…And it was a very Courfeyrac idea…

            They walked the long corridor to the waiting area outside their gate, and René sat between them on one of the many chairs.  He kicked his feet as Enjolras settled the bags under their chairs and Grantaire played with his phone.

            “Daddy are we going to go soon?” René asked quietly.  Patience was not a virtue most six year olds exhibit, and René was no acception. 

            “We have to wait for the airplane to come to the gate so we can get on. It might take a little while.” He explained.

            “Like how long?”  Enjolras consulted his wristwatch.

            “About an hour.”  René’s jaw dropped.

            “A _hour_?!  That’s so long!”

            “It’ll go fast.  Why don’t we play a game?”

            “Like what game?”

            “I don’t know…Papa, what game should we play?” Enjolras asked Grantaire with a smile.  Since having René, they had gotten into the habit of referring to themselves as Daddy and Papa, and soon they were calling each other Daddy and Papa, too. They hardly noticed anymore.

            “We could play ‘eye spy’.” He suggested.  Grantaire was very good at ‘eye spy’ and always found objects and items that were difficult to find.

            “You go first, Papa.” René said, clinging to Elephant and climbing into Grantaire’s lap.  He looked around, and René played with one of his golden curls, trying to follow his Papa’s gaze.

            “I spy something yellow.” He said with a smile, knowing yellow was René’s favorite color.  Enjolras and René both searched around.  Most of the airport was either grey or black or white…boring colors.  The carpet on the floor was a generic geometric pattern, and there wasn’t much hanging on the walls.

            “Is it just things inside, or out the window too?” René asked.

            “Outside too!  You’re smart, René, I thought I would fool you!” Grantaire smiled.  René began searching outside the massive windows overlooking the runway.

            “Is it the luggage cart?” Enjolras asked.

            “Nope!” Grantaire replied with a cheeky grin.

            “Is it the thing sticking up off the back of that airplane?” René asked, noting the bright yellow pattern decorating the tail of one of the planes taxiing across the runway.

            “Yup! Nice job!” he smiled. René laughed, but noted another little boy sitting across the way, looking rather bored sitting between his parents: his father on the phone, his mother tending to an infant in her arms.

            “Can he play?” René asked.

            “Sure! Go on and ask.” Grantaire and Enjolras watched as René approached the boy.  He wasn’t really shy, but he wasn’t particularly outgoing either, and they were both curious as to what he would do.  René had many friends from school, but he hadn’t had much experience making friends out-of-the-blue the way he was trying to now.

            “Hi.” He said simply, walking up to the boy.  The other child said nothing, but looked down to the video game he held in his lap.

            “What are you playing?” René asked, looking over the top of the device. Courfeyrac and Combeferre had given René a new Nintendo DS for Christmas, and it was in the travel bag, but he didn’t play with it often.  He found it somewhat boring and would much rather draw pictures or talk to someone than play with it.

            “Pokémon.” The boy replied with a smile.

            “I have that one too.” René smiled, watching the character walk along in the grass.  “What’s your name?”

            “Rory.”

            “I’m René.”

            “How old are you?”

            “Six.” René smiled.  He was very proud of being six.

            “I’m seven and three quarters.” He replied with a grin.  René was immediately humbled by this ‘big kid’, and said nothing else about his age.

            “Want to play ‘eye spy’ with me and my daddies?” he asked. The boy, Rory, looked up and gave him a funny look.

            “Daddies? How come you don’t have a mommy?” René shrugged, and Enjolras looked to Grantaire nervously.

            “I just don’t have a mommy.  I have my Daddy and Papa instead…want to play?” he asked again, moving right along with a smile.  Rory nodded, looking to his mother, who smiled approvingly, though René wasn’t quite sure she knew what was going on.  She looked very tired and was tending to the little baby.

            “You have a nice baby.” René said with a smile.  The woman laughed at his awkward compliment.

            “Thank you!” she smiled.  Rory and René headed back across the way to Enjolras and Grantaire.

            “This is my Papa and that’s Daddy.” René introduced.  “And this is Rory and he wants to play ‘eye spy’.”

            “Sounds like fun.  It’s your turn, René, since you won last round.” Enjolras smiled.

            “I spy something green!” he looked to Grantaire. Green was his favorite, and René wanted to return the gesture after his Papa spied something yellow for him.

            “Is it that lamp in the restaurant over there?” Rory asked, pointing.

            “Yes that was so fast!” René exclaimed, slightly put off that Rory had guessed so quickly, but he decided against saying something…Rory was a Big Kid, after all.

            “My turn now!  I spy something red.” He smiled.

            “That’s Daddy’s favorite!” René cooed.  Enjolras smiled.

            “Is it the sign above that store?” Grantaire asked. 

            “No!” Rory smiled.

            “Is it the emergency exit sign?” Enjolras inquired.  Rory shook his head.

            “Is it that lady’s lipstick?” René giggled, noting the woman sitting near them, wearing huge headphones, lots of makeup, and hair that added inches to her height. Enjolras laughed and shook his head in mild exasperation.

            “No!” Rory said.

            “Wow you’re good at this!” Grantaire said.  “I don’t know what it is!” he gave the area a final sweep, still stumped. They had named all of the obvious red things in the area.

            “It’s his hair tie!” Rory pointed to Enjolras.  He was, in fact, wearing a red elastic in his hair, holding back his piping curls.

            “That was a good one!” Enjolras smiled.

 

They continued their game until the boys began to lose interest, and René followed Rory back to his parents. He watched as the older boy played his game.

            “Are you going to America too?” René asked.  Rory nodded, keeping his eyes fixed on his Pokémon game. “Are you going for vacation?”

            “No I live there.”

            “You live in America?  I’m going to America for a trip.” René explained.

            “Do you live in France, then?”

            “Yup!”  
            “Can you say anything in an American accent?” Rory chuckled.

            “I want a hot dog and a bald eagle!” René attempted, doing his best to rid himself of the French twang his words took on.  Rory roared with laughter.

            “You say something French now!” René giggled.

            “Baguette crepes _hon hon hon!_ ” Now it was René’s turn to laugh.  “I don’t even know what ‘Baguette’ is!” he admitted.  “But I know it’s French-ish!”

            “It’s bread!” René explained, “Really long bread that comes in a paper bag.”

            “Did you ever see _Ratatouille_?” Rory asked, referring to the Disney movie.

            “No but I ate ratatouille.  My Papa makes it sometimes!”

            “That’s cool.”

            “Does your Papa make hamburgers?  That’s what people in America eat right?”

            “We eat other stuff too.” Rory explained.

            “Like what other stuff?”

            “Pizza and macaroni and meatloaf…”

            “I don’t like meatloaf.” René smiled.  A voice crackled over the intercom system.  René couldn’t understand what it was saying, but Enjolras clearly did, and called René back.

            “Time to get on the airplane!” he called.  “Say goodbye to your friend!”

            “Bye Rory!” René said, hurrying back to his parents.

            “Bye!”   
            René took Enjolras’ hand and Grantaire carried their bags to the gate.  
  
  
  
  
  
Wow lots of words oh boy...this is so random I'm really sorry.......hehehe....he....hehe....


	29. Chapter 29

The plane ride was very exciting up until the last hour—the descent into New York.  René slapped his little hands over his ears, rubbing at them, poking his fingers inside and scratching around, pulling, tugging, pinching—until finally beginning to cry.

            “What’s wrong, baby?” Enjolras asked, giving René a snuggle from his seat.

            “Why are my ears hurting?” he asked, pressing his hands to the sides of his head.

            “That happens sometimes on airplanes.  Try a lolli.  Suck on it really hard. Sometimes that helps.” He handed René a pink lemonade Dum-dum—his favorite, and René sucked on it, but continued to cry.

            “Daddy it hurts!”

            “I’m sorry, René…Try to yawn.  See if that helps.”  He tried, but once again to no avail.  He was beginning to get frustrated, and his tears intensified.  He was being rather loud, and Grantaire stirred from his nap.

            “Grantaire do you know a way to stop his ears from hurting?” Enjolras asked, holding René’s head to his chest, trying to offer some comfort. He ran his long fingers through the little boy’s golden curls.

            “Daddy I want to take this off!” he tugged at his seatbelt.

            “I’m sorry, René.  You have to keep it on while we land.  We’ll be in New York very soon.”

            “Did you try a lolli pop?” Grantaire asked, looking around Enjolras, who sat in the center seat, to René, who was in the window.

            “We tried a lolli…And yawning.”

            “Did you try hot water?” he asked.

            “What?” Enjolras raised an eyebrow.

            “Yeah hot water makes it stop.  One sec.” He reached up and pressed the call button. A flight attendant arrived shortly with a smile.

            “Is everything alright?” he asked upon seeing René’s tears.

            “His ears hurt.  Can I get paper cups and some hot water?  Napkins too, please.”

            “I’ll be right back.” The man smiled, returning a moment later with three cups, two napkins, and a third cup filled half way with hot water—this wasn’t his first rodeo.

            “Thanks a lot.” He smiled.

            “Any time!  Enjoy the rest of your flight, and feel better, young man!” he added before returning to the front of the plane.

            “How does that help?” Enjolras asked.  René sniffled.

            “The steam makes your ears stop hurting for some reason…You have to wad up the napkin and stick it in the hot water, then put it in the bottom of the empty cup and put that over his ears.” He explained as he placed the steaming wet napkins into the bottoms of the two empty cups.

            “Put them over your ears like headphones!” Grantaire explained, handing the cups to René.  He did as he was told, and in a moment, his tears stopped and were replaced with a bright smile.

            “It doesn’t hurt any more!” he exclaimed.

            “I love you, Sunshine.” Enjolras said, releasing René so he could sit comfortably in his own seat, the cups pressed over his ears.

            “You look like an alien.” Grantaire noted with a chuckle, Enjolras snapped a picture on the digital camera—no phones allowed out on the plane! René laughed at his picture on the screen.

 

—o0o—

 

Landing was by far René’s favorite part of the flight. He looked out the window and laughed like a banshee when they touched down, bouncing once before slowing down and finally taxiing to the gate in New York.

            “Do we get out now?” René asked as the people around him began to stand up. Grantaire retrieved their carry on bag from the overhead compartment, handing René his little yellow backpack.

            “Put Elephant back inside so we don’t forget him anywhere!” he said. René placed the stuffed animal into the bag, zipping it up with the head sticking out the top—so he could see, of course.

            “We’re getting off now.  Stand up, Sunshine.” Enjolras instructed, allowing him to get out of the seat first so that he could follow Grantaire.  Enjolras would take up the rear.  Sometimes René became side tracked and was very easily distracted.  Enjolras and Grantaire learned early on that they needed to keep René between them—a René sandwich—or he would most likely fall behind and get separated from them.  Grantaire would lead their little line, and Enjolras would take up the rear. That way, nobody would get lost.

            They walked off the plane together, René holding his Daddy’s hand while Grantaire carried their bag.

            “Where do we go now?” he asked, looking out the windows and realizing it was still dark out.  “How come it’s still morning?”

            “We have to go pick up the rest of our luggage now.” Grantaire smiled.

            “And it’s morning because Paris is in a different time zone than New York. New York is six hours behind Paris.”

            “How come?”

            “It has to do with the sun, I think.” Enjolras tried to explain. He really wasn’t all that sure of the details himself.

            “What time is it at home?” Enjolras consulted his wristwatch—he hadn’t set it to the New York time yet.  It was 10:00 in the morning in New York, but it was later in the day back home.

            “It’s 4:00 back home.  Almost supper time.” He replied.

            “Wow weird…” René said, looking around.  The airport was nearly indistinguishable from the one they had left behind in Paris, and there were lots of stores and restaurants along the long corridor. The only real difference was that the signs were all in English instead of French.  He could speak English, but reading and writing it were a bit more difficult for him, and he was a little frustrated that he couldn’t understand the signs.  Enjolras tugged him along by the hand when it began to lag.

            “Daddy can we get a New York sweatshirt?” René asked with a smile.

            “Oh goodness…” Enjolras looked to Grantaire.  “Do we have time?”

            “I think so!” Grantaire smiled.  You get a sweat shirt, I’ll get the luggage, and I’ll meet you by the baggage claim, okay?”

            “Sounds good.” Enjolras smiled, standing on his toes to give Grantaire a quick kiss before parting ways.  It was then that René whipped around at the sound of his name.

            “Bye René!  Have fun in America!” Rory shouted with a wave as he passed with his family.  “René smiled and waved in return.

            “Bye Rory!  Baguette crepes _hon hon hon!_ ” he replied. Rory laughed and smiled, waving a final time before turning and walking with his family.

            “Baguette crepes _hon hon hon_?” Enjolras raised an eyebrow at René.

            “Rory said that when he was pretending to be French, so I said it because I’m French.” He smiled.  Enjolras laughed.

            “I understand!” he lead René into one of the small shops and let him look through the shirts.

            “I like this one!” the little boy smiled, taking a plain black pullover that read ‘I ♥ New York’ in white letters, the heart bright red.

            “Going with the classic, huh?” Enjolras smiled, purchasing the hoodie and giving it to René, who pulled it over his head happily as Enjolras held his yellow backpack, Elephant safely tucked inside, peeking out the zipper. 

 

Grantaire had a truly hideous luggage.  It was old, first of all, and he had acquired it at an estate sale for the precise reason of ease of identification at the air port.  It honestly looked like an old sofa, complete with a faded upholstery-like pattern of mauve flowers on a dark beige background. Not only that, it was completely covered in paint smears from Grantaire’s studio.  He sometimes used it as a still life object…and other times as a palette stand.  He spotted it quickly, and grabbed it.

            Rene’s smaller duffle came next, and was also easy to spot, with it’s yellow and blue stripes. Enjolras’ rolling red luggage wasn’t difficult to find either, though surprisingly not because of the color. The first thing Grantaire saw was the luggage tag Courfeyrac had gifted him before their trip. It was bright pink and read ‘Hands Off!’ in block letters.  Grantaire chuckled when he saw it.  He also chuckled when he saw Enjolras chasing René across the baggage claim as he ran to Grantaire.

            “I like your sweatshirt!” he exclaimed, picking him up and spinning him around with a big hug.

            “I like your _face_!” René retorted with a grin.

            “How come?”

            “You have a good nose.”

            “You don’t think it’s too big?”

            “No it’s nice.”

            “You’re nice.”

            “Thanks.” Grantaire kissed René’s cheek as Enjolras approached.

            “Ready to go?” he asked.

            “Ready to go.” Grantaire replied.  Together they walked out of the airport and out to their taxi, ready to take on New York City.

 

—o0o—

 

“Wow it’s fancy in here.” René said as they entered their hotel: the Hilton in Times Square.  The entire center of the skyscraper was hollowed out for a massive column of elevators that zipped up and down in glass tubes.

            “It’s a pretty fancy hotel, huh?” Grantaire smiled, tugging along Enjolras’ rolling luggage and René’s little duffle, while Enjolras carried Grantaire’s smaller ugly-bag, as they called it.

            “Oh yeah. Only the fanciest for my Sunshine and Apollo.” Grantaire smirked.  Enjolras smiled and shook his head.

 

After checking in, Enjolras, Grantaire, and René hopped into one of the many elevators.  René was overjoyed when he discovered that their elevator was one of the outer glass tubes, and pressed his hands to the wall, looking out over the lobby as the doors closed. Enjolras stuck close to Grantaire—elevators made him nervous, but 42 stories was a lot of stairs…

            “Wow this goes fast!” René cooed as they left the first floor, the elevator whisking them up and away, the floors zooming past in seconds. 

            “Pretty cool, huh? Like the elevator in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory!” Grantaire smiled, his arm around Enjolras’ shoulders. Grantaire read to René every night, and they had only just finished Charlie and the Chocolate Factory a few days before their trip.  It was something special he and Grantaire did together.  It was important to Enjolras and Grantaire that their little boy have time alone with both of them.  He and Grantaire read books every night, and René always accompanied Enjolras to yoga with Jehan and Lyle on Saturday mornings—then he and his daddy spent the day ‘out and about’ doing everything from shopping to visiting museums while Grantaire performed his weekend ballet shows.

            “Yup It’s like the glass elevator!” René agreed with a grin.

 

When they reached their floor, René immediately felt the strange and sudden urge to run down the long hall as fast as he possibly could, nearly colliding with an employee pushing a room service cart filled with sweets. Though they never collided, René wound up on the floor after a quick avoidance maneuver.

            “Whoa there! Are you alright?” the man asked, offering René his hand.

            “Yup sorry I was running.” He replied, worried he was in trouble.

            “As long as you aren’t hurt!” Grantaire arrived at René’s side and hoisted him up Would you like a croissant?” he asked, offering René one of the treats from the cart.  René bowed his eyebrows.

            “What’s Crus-ent?” he asked. Grantaire laughed.

            “Croissant, René! You eat them all the time!” he explained, saying the word with the proper French twang René was used to.

            “Oh!  Yes please!” he smiled.

            “Forgive me, I am not French! But I think you are!” the staff member grinned.  “Do you need any help finding your room?” he continued as Enjolras arrived, tugging their luggage. Grantaire showed the man their room key with the number.

            “That room has a great view! Just down there.” He pointed.

            “Thank you!” Enjolras smiled.

            “Thanks for the croissant!” René added.  Grantaire placed the key card into the slot in the door.

            “Daddy this isn’t a croissant! It’s a _pain au chocolate_!” he exclaimed, showing Enjolras the chocolate inside the flaky crust.

            “Americans don’t know what they’re talking about, do they?” he joked in reply.  René laughed.

            “Wow this room is fancy.” The little boy smiled as Grantaire pushed open the door.  Inside was a living room complete with plush sofa, and behind an open doorway were two massive beds, bigger than any of the beds in their flat back home.

            “It is, huh? The school I’m teaching at was pretty nice to give it to us.”  Grantaire smiled. René hurried into the room with the beds, hopping up on his toes when he realized there were two.

            “Papa do I get my own bed?!” he squealed.

            “Looks like it!” he replied.

            “Wow, René! That’s a big bed for a very little Sunshine!” Enjolras chuckled, beginning to place their things in the dresser provided them.  They would be staying for three weeks, and he wanted to keep organized.

            “There’s a TV in here too! Can we watch it?” René asked, bouncing on the bed, pulling the crisp covers down and placing his own fuzzy green blanket, as well as his rubber duck snuggle blanket Joly had given him when he had his tonsils out.  He also sat Elephant neatly on the his pillow, which Enjolras had already placed on the bed. He reached into his bag and retrieved a small framed picture of Lyle, and a second picture of Caroline, which he sat on the small table beside his bed.

            “Where did you get those, René?” Grantaire asked, looking at the pictures.

            “Lyle gave them to me before we left.  He said he wanted to go to America too so he gave me a picture to take, and then I took my picture of Caroline from at home because I love her.” He explained with a sweet smile. Enjolras looked lovingly at his little boy, constantly amazed at René’s depth of understanding and emotion. He was easily distracted, a daydreamer, and perhaps a bit ditzy, but he was also loving and intelligent and compassionate.

            “Hey check it out, René! They have Adventure Time here too!” Grantaire said, flipping through TV channels.

            “Wow it’s the same! Only English!” René smiled, hunkering down in his nest of a bed and snuggling up with Elephant to watch.

            “Very exciting!” Enjolras sat beside him.

            “Well we have three weeks of exciting ahead of us, so get comfy!” Grantaire smiled, snuggling up on the other side of René, sandwiching him between his daddies.

            “I love you guys.” He added.

            “I love you too, Papa.” René replied, leaning against his Papa’s arm.  “I love you a lot.”


	30. Chapter 30

The rest of the day went by quietly, the little family staying mostly in their hotel room; reading books, watching movies, looking out the window at the view, and listening to music and dancing.

            When the sun set over the city, René was excited to get to bed.  He never had never been a problem when it came to bed time, but now he was truly glad it was time to sleep.  Not only was he jet-lagged, he also wanted to crawl into that massive, king-sized bed. It was at least triple the size of his twin bed at home, and for some reason, the thought of having so much space to himself was intoxicating. 

            “Pajama time, Sunshine!” Grantaire said, flopping down beside where René was sitting on the edge of the bed. His little body bounced at his Papa’s weight, and he giggled.

            “You have to wear yours too!” he cooed.  “Daddy has his!” Enjolras turned from where he was fishing his toothbrush out of his overnight bag.

            “Yup! I have my PJs!” he smiled. Enjolras was a t-shirt and flannel pants kind of guy, and that’s what he was in currently: Grantaire’s old T-shirt from their college, and his favorite pair of red plaid PJ pants René gave him for Christmas years ago.

            “Papa needs PJs!” René said again.

            “All I have to do is take off my pants and I’m set.” He laughed. 

            “Don’t be crude, R.” Enjolras mumbled as he headed towards the bathroom to brush his teeth.

            “Sorry my undies disgust you, Apollo.”  René doubled over laughing, rolling around on the comforter of the massive bed. “I could just take them off, if that would make you feel better.”

            “Oh my—Grantaire, we have a six year old!” Enjolras joked, peeking around the bathroom door, his hair out of its ponytail and flying wild around his head.  René could hardly breathe, he was laughing so hard.

            “No pants party!” he shouted, throwing his little hands in the air.  Grantaire laughed and hugged him, handing him his pajama pants—a pair of floral bottoms from Jehan—and his night shirt; one of Enjolras’ old t shirts with ‘Musain’ written in curling letters across the front.  Grantaire—as promised—stripped to his boxers and flopped down in the bed across from René. 

            “I like your undies, Papa.” René noted, smiling.

            “I wore the Star Wars ones today.” He grinned.

            “I think Daddy looks like Anakin.”

            “You think so? Daddy is a better actor than Anakin, that’s for sure.”

            “Alright, gentlemen, time for bed!” Enjolras emerged from the bathroom, his face washed, his teeth brushed. He even shaved. It always amazed Grantaire how easily Enjolras was able to keep himself flawlessly groomed, no matter what. In all the years they had been together, Grantaire had never seen Enjolras with stubble on his chin or his hair unwashed.  He was never greasy; he was never prickly or smelly in any way.  It was a miracle. 

Grantaire was always a little disheveled. His hair was always a mess, and his chin was always unshaven, unless he was in a show.  It took him a long time to clean himself up, and even then, he wasn’t nearly as flawless as Enjolras could be in minutes.

“Good, I’m tired!”  Grantaire said, closing his eyes and slipping under the covers.

“Good night, Sunshine.” Enjolras said, leaning over and giving René a kiss on his forehead, pushing his curls back and out of his face.  “I love you.”

“I love you too, Daddy.” The little boy replied, reaching up and giving Enjolras a hug around the neck.  “I love you too, Papa.” He added.

“I love you too, René!” Grantaire replied as Enjolras flipped the lamp off, the glow from the bathroom casting a comforting light across the room.

 

Everyone was quiet for a long time, but René was still wide awake.  The bustle of Times Square was very different from his quiet street back home. Constant honking horns, loud music, talking, the lights—it was all very different, and it was making sleep impossible.

“Daddy?” René whispered, sitting up in his bed. There was no reply.

“Papa.” He tried again, hoping Grantaire would hear him, seeing as he was closer to René.  “Papaaa” he cooed, giving Grantaire’s hand a nudge as it hung off the edge of the bed.  His eyes fluttered open.

“What’s up, little man?” he asked with a smile, rolling over carefully so as not to wake Enjolras.

“It’s too noisy.” He replied with a frown.

“It’s a little different from our house at home, huh?” René nodded.  Though they lived in the city, their street was quiet, located in the historic district, and a bit removed from the rest of town.  Honking horns were a regular occurrence, but not this constant or this loud. The flickering lights from a thousand screens were also very different, and though they were high up in the building, it was still bright out the window beside René’s bed.

“How about we start a book?” Grantaire suggested.

“But we don’t have a book here…” René said sadly.

“I brought you one.  I was going to surprise you before I left for class, but I can give it to you now.” He slipped from the bed, retrieved a book from his ugly luggage, and sat beside René in his bed.

“What book is it?!” he asked.

“Ssshhh!  Keep quiet!  Daddy is asleep! It’s called the Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe.”

“Okay.” The little boy hunkered down beside his Papa, settling in to listen to the first chapter of their brand new book.

“Once there were four children whose names were Peter, Susan, Edmund and Lucy…” Grantaire began.

 

Before the chapter was finished, René was fast asleep. Grantaire smiled and kissed René’s forehead before returning to Enjolras.

“Everything okay?” he asked, his eyes tired, his hair splayed around his head in a golden halo.

“Yup.  The little dude couldn’t fall asleep so I read to him a little.”

“That’s good.  You should have woken me.  I would have stayed up with him.”

“Nah.  Reading is our thing.” He smirked.  Enjolras smiled.

“You’re right.  I wouldn’t want to ruin it.”

“I love you.” he gave Enjolras a peck on the lips as his eyes fluttered closed.

“I love you too.  More than you know.” He snuggled up against Grantaire’s chest, and Grantaire put his arms around his slender body.

“I hope I’m a good teacher.” He whispered.

“You’ll be a great teacher, Grantaire. You’re a great teacher at home.”

“It’s different here, though. I hope they don’t think I’m weird or anything.”

“You’re not weird.  You’re lovely.  They’ll love you.”

“I hope so.”

“I know so.” He smiled.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
~This is short.  Okay.


	31. Chapter 31

Grantaire stepped into his black leotard after pulling on his leggings, and René handed him an elastic band for his hair.

            “Thanks, Sunshine!” he smiled, combing his wiry curls back and into a little bun at the back of his head.

            “Can I come with you?” he asked.

            “Not today, buddy. Maybe Friday, though. That’s a half day. Sound good?”

            “I guess so.” René said, his smile vanishing.

            “What’s wrong?”

            “I want to come too. I can dance ballet.” René had, in fact, started lessons with his Papa, and was getting better, but Grantaire was teaching a class for young adults—not children.  René would lose interest quickly in what they were doing, and Grantaire couldn’t take him home or entertain him in the middle of a serious class.

            “I know you can, René. But this class is for big kids and grownups.  You’re a little guy! You can come on Friday and show everyone your ballet then, okay?  I’ll be back at 3:30.  Then I’ll hang out with you, alright?  I promise. Me, you, and Daddy.”

            “Okay.” The little boy smiled.

            “Ready to go?” Enjolras asked, handing Grantaire his shoes and duffle bag.

            “Yup! Just gonna pull a shirt on so I don’t scare anybody on the street with my atrocious body.” He joked.

            “You’re not atrocious. You’re beautiful, Grantaire.” Enjolras gave him a quick kiss, standing on his toes, his hand pressed to Grantaire’s chest.

            “Love you.”

            “I love you too. Don’t be late!”

            “Bye Sunshine! Have fun with Daddy today!”

            “Bye Papa!” René waved as he left the suite.

 

—o0o—

 

Grantaire took the subway to the local theater where the class was being held, and pushed open the door, putting on a strong front, but shaking like a leaf. He had been in professional theater. He taught children’s ballet classes all the time.  But this was making him ridiculously nervous.  Some of the people he would be teaching were older than he was.  How would they react to him?  Would they laugh at his accent?  Was being French weird in America?  Or would they be freaked out by his looks? He wasn’t exactly attractive to being with, and he had a reputation of looking scruffy. 

            He took a deep breath and walked into the studio.  A class of eight or ten people, some as young as 16, others as old as 50, were sitting, stretching, and checking their phones.

            “Hey everyone!” he said in his best English, hoping he didn’t sound too strange.  His students looked up, ready to begin.

            “You guys can finish stretching or whatever.  It says there are supposed to be ten people, but I think we’re missing some…” he consulted his clip board, feeling awkwardly official.  He didn’t like being put in such a professional position…it made him feel funny. Who was he to tell others what to do? But they were learning…they wanted to listen…right? 

            Once the last two students entered the room, he decided it would be best to introduce himself a bit before really starting.

            “Okay, so…I’m used to teaching preschoolers, so hopefully this goes well and I don’t have to wipe any noses.” He smiled when the class laughed.  That was a good sign.

            “So I’m Grantaire, but that’s sort of weird and French, so just call me R, if that’s easier. My name literally translates to ‘Grand R’ so it works out.” He smiled again.  “I’m from Paris, France, but I think you guys know that already. I’ve been in a few professional shows that traveled around France, and I’ve been dancing on and off since I was a kid.  I also paint and illustrate children’s books, which is cool too.  So we can get started now, and if you guys feel like it’s too slow or too fast or if it’s not fun, just say so and we’ll try something different. This is supposed to be fun, so if that’s not happening, it’s not worth the time, right?” the class smiled.

            “Alright, so none of you guys are beginners, so I expect you know all the positions and everything. This class is more like stageing and working professionally, so maybe we should start with a mock audition…Would that be helpful?” the class agreed, and Grantaire sat down on the floor after assigning an order for everyone to ‘audition’. 

            “Always start with your name and say hi or whatever.  Casting directors are just people.  They like being said hello to, as least in my experience.”  The first student in line, an older woman with a slim build and long legs, walked to the center of the room—the ‘stage’—and smiled.

            “Hello, everyone! My name is Victoria Lafeyette, and I’ll be auditioning…Excuse me, Mr. R, but what are we auditioning for?” Grantaire laughed, and one of the younger women seemed to blush.

            “Whatever you like! Then dance a bit. I’ll have a look and see where everyone is!”

            “Alright! My name is Victoria Lafeyette, and I’ll be auditioning for…oh let’s see…Beauty and the Beast!”

            “Well done! Very confident!”

            “This isn’t my first rodeo. You’re only a baby to me!” she added with a grin.  She was, in fact, far older than Grantaire—probably in her early sixties—and was one of the students Grantaire was hesitant to teach, but she seemed very friendly, and was, in fact, I very good dancer.  Everyone applauded when she finished.

            “Very good. I can find nothing wrong! Perhaps an untied dance shoe.” He joked. Her shoe had, in fact, become untied. The class chuckled.

            I young man stepped up next. He was probably 17 or 18, and was not built like a dancer.  He was heavy set, and kept a t-shirt on over his leotard.  Grantaire smiled to him.  He reminded him very much of himself.

            “My name is Spencer McCleen…I guess I’ll dance Swan Lake…since that’s the only thing I’ve gotten a part in…” he added under his breath.  Grantaire kept up his smile, seeing so much of himself in the boy, even as he began to dance.

            It was clear by everyone’s bored stare that nobody was expecting much out of Spencer, but what they got was borderline miraculous.  He was very talented, with near perfect posture and skill on his feet. He wasn’t perfect, by any means, but the talent was real, and Grantaire’s smile widened.  Thunderous applause rattled the room when he finished.

            “Very good. I think all you need is a little more confidence.” Spencer smiled.

 

—o0o—

 

Spencer was the last one to leave when class was over, and Grantaire stayed behind with him, taking off his ballet shoes and changing into a pair of sweat pants. They were quiet for a long while, but just as Spencer was standing to leave, Grantaire called him back.

            “You did very well today.” He said with a smile.

            “Thanks…” he replied uneasily.

            “You remind me very much of myself.” Grantaire admitted.  Spencer gave a snort of disbelieving laughter.

            “Yeah, funny.” He retorted.

            “It’s true.”

            “No it’s not. You’re…amazing. You’re really strong and tall…and thin. I bet the girls love you. Like that girl in class today. She wouldn’t stop looking at you.” Grantaire laughed, taking his wallet out of his bag and retrieving his school ID from high school—something he carried around for laughs.  It was a terrible picture to begin with, even if he had not been of Grantaire, with awkward lighting and the classic, stiff school photo pose. But it was also one of Grantaire’s lowest points in his life.  To begin with, it was when he was at his heaviest—almost 100Kg—and right after he had come out of rehab for the second time.  His hair was long and shaggy, hanging in his face, greasy and unkempt. His face was riddled with acne, scars of which he still carried.  He didn’t smile, and his shoulders were hunched—horrible posture. He handed it to Spencer.

            “This is you?” he asked in disbelief.

            “That’s me! My junior year of High School.” He laughed.  “I had just started dancing again then.  I stopped for a long while.”

            “Why did you stop?”

            “I had a tough time as a kid. My father was very abusive, and he stopped paying for my lessons when I was about twelve.  Then I didn’t dance again until I was put into foster care when I was seventeen.”

            “Did people…I mean…did you get teased?”

            “Always. But dancing and drawing were the only things I was good at.  Those were the only things I was proud of myself for.  My therapist said I had to keep going and foster family wouldn’t let me stop, even when I wanted to.  I’m really glad I didn’t.” he smiled again.  “People who tease you are just mad they don’t have anything to be proud of. That probably sounds like a load of bullshit now, but it’s true.  You’re very good.  Just keep working at it.”

            “I need to lose weight…” Grantaire shrugged. 

            “I was heavy for a while, even after I started dancing again,” he opened his wallet again and fished out a few more recent photos he always carried—old fashioned, he knew, but he did it anyhow.  He gave them to Spencer, who thumbed through them.

            “This one is old now, I guess. Six years ago when my son was born. I was dancing a little then, but I was still a little heavy.  This one is old, too.  That’s my wedding, but I was big there, too.  This one is just two years ago, my little guy’s first day of school.” He smiled, and so did Spencer.

            “I guess there’s hope then.” He chuckled.

            “Always.” He stood, offering Spencer his hand.  He stood and handed back the pictures.

            “Is your family here with you?” he asked.

            “They are. I’m not sure where they decided to explore today, but they’re with me!”

            “You’re…I mean…Your little boy looks like your…partner…”

            “I am gay, if that’s what you’re getting at.” Grantaire smiled.  People always danced around the subject, trying to get on the topic by asking about René’s mother or how Enjolras must have been difficult to woo in the beginning, considering he was far more attractive than the average Joe.

            “Sorry…”

            “It’s okay. I don’t know why people are so nervous to ask about it.  It’s fine.”

            “I just…I don’t know why I’m telling you all this.  I don’t even know you…”

            “I don’t really have anyone to tell, if it’s something you’re looking to keep private. But you don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to.” Grantaire said, holding the studio door open for the young man.

            “I never told anyone this before…I’m afraid to say anything, but…there’s this guy…”

            “I understand. Believe me.” Grantaire chuckled, thinking about his own early struggles with his sexuality. “I don’t even really know what advice to give you because I coped by drinking…But I do know that everything falls into place in the end, and nobody important will hate you because of who you are. ‘the people who mind don’t matter, and the people who matter don’t mind.’  Dr. Seuss said that, I think.”

            “Thanks, Mr. R…”

            “Just R is fine. ‘Mister’ makes me sound like an old guy.” Spencer laughed.  “Here, take my phone number.  If you ever have a problem, just give a shout, alright?”

            “Alright.”

            “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

            “Definitely.” Grantaire gave him a quick wave as he started down the sidewalk.

           

—o0o—

“Ready to go, Sunshine?” Enjolras asked as René walked out of the bedroom, all dressed in his favorite yellow robot shirt and a pair of blue short pants.

            “Yup! Where are we going though?” he asked, walking on his toes as Enjolras handed him his sneakers.

            “We’re going to see a show, just me and you, alright?”

            “Okay! A musical show?”

            “Yup.” Enjolras smiled. He and René had a shared love of musical theater, but unlike Enjolras had never seen a professional show before.

            “What one?”

            “Newsies!” Enjolras announced. He had purchased the CD and played it in the car often as a sort of foreshadowing, but René didn’t suspect a thing.

            “The one on the CD right?!”

            “Yup! I got you a present, too.” Enjolras smiled, pulling a news cap out from behind his back, as well as a tiny sweatshirt, just René’s size, with the Newsies title across the chest in big letters.

            “Is this the same one from the show?” René asked, slapping the cap onto his curls.

            “Yup. I got it on the Broadway website.” He smiled.

            “Did you get anything?” he asked.

            “Not for me. Just for you.”

            “Thank you, Daddy!”

            “You are most welcome. Come on, we don’t want to be late!”

 

—o0o—

 

            “How did you like it, Sunshine?” Enjolras asked as he and René walked back to the Hilton from the theater.

            “It was really good!” he raved, skipping along to keep up with Enjolras’ speedy gait across the street.

            “Who was your favorite character?”

            “Les! And Cruchie.  And Katherine.  And Davie! I like all of them! What was your favorite?”

            “I liked Jack!” Enjolras admitted.  He loved a good strong leader figure.

            “We’ll all be out there, carrying the banner through it all!  Out there, carrying the banner tough and tall!” René sang as they entered the elevator.

            “Till the moment I found you, I thought I knew what love was…” Enjolras added.  They proceeded to sing the entire duet, complete with harmonies, much to the amusement of the hotel staff they passed in the hallway.

            They found Grantaire waiting for them with a smile upon their returning, and René ran to him, news cap and all, jumping into his arms and giving him a big hug.

            “I love you, Papa.”

            “I love you too, Sunshine. How was your show?”

            “It was the best we should go see it again!” he shouted, jumping up and down on his toes.

            “Oh I don’t know about that! How about you tell me all about it?”

            “Okay! They did lots of dancing and one of them spun a pirouette on a newspaper sixteen times in a row!”

            “Wow! I don’t think I could do that!”

            “Yes you can, Papa, and they did aerials and tap dancing!” René rattled off dance steps to Grantaire, who smiled.  Maybe René listened during his dance lessons after all!

            “That sounds awesome!”

            “It _was_ awesome!  But I missed you.”

            “I missed you too.”

            “Can I come with you tomorrow?”

            “Friday, remember? You can come Friday.”

            “Oh okay.”

            “We’ll do something fun tomorrow, too, René.” Enjolras smiled.

            “Another show?” he clapped his hands together.

            “Not another show…but something else fun.  I promise.” Grantaire smiled, though his eyes were sad.  He wanted to spend time with Enjolras and René…but he was there to teach.  He would have to hang out with them another time…


	32. Chapter 32

Friday couldn’t come fast enough for René. Though he was having lots of fun perusing the city with Enjolras, he desperately wanted to attend his papa’s dance class, and even laid out his leotard and dance shoes the night before.

            “What will I do all day by myself?” Enjolras smiled as he helped René step into his tights.

            “You get to do whatever you want!” René grinned, holding onto Enjolras’ shoulders so he didn’t fall over.

            “Ready to go?” Grantaire asked, emerging from the bathroom in his own leotard and tights, pulling a T shirt on.

            “How come you have a shirt on, Papa?”

            “I don’t like wearing a leotard and tights out on the street. It makes me feel sort of silly.” He explained with a smile, reaching for a pair of sweatpants he had folded on the bed.

            “Can I wear my jellyfish shirt?” the little boy asked, tugging at the neckline of his yellow leotard top. René had insisted on yellow, and when they couldn’t find one, Jehan offered to make one for him. He’d had it for years, and it was getting a little snug, but René wouldn’t stop wearing it until Jehan made him another one.

            “If you feel like it,” Grantaire tossed him his shirt and he pulled it over his head, taking his yellow backpack and following his Papa out the door, waving to Enjolras.

 

René jumped with excitement as he walked through the studio door, hand in hand with Grantaire.

            “Morning, everyone!” Grantaire smiled to the group gathering in the studio. Spencer returned the grin first, watching as René pulled his t shirt over his head, revealing his bright yellow leotard. “This is my little guy René, and René, this is Victoria, Maya, Jim, Kurt, Sophie, Abigail, and Spencer!” he introduced, pointing to each person in turn. Maya, the girl who had been blushing at Grantaire constantly all week, gave an awkward half-smile. “René has been dancing for just over a year, and…Here, René you tell everyone about yourself.” He suggested with a smile. René was more than happy to talk about himself, and stood up from putting his canvas dance shoes on.

            “I’m René and I’m seven, and I dance with Papa a lot in his class at home!” he cooed.

            “Why don’t you dance for us? Want to?” Grantaire asked the little boy. He nodded happily.

            “Papa help me do an aerial,” he said quietly. The class smiled, and Victoria, the older woman, laughed lightly.

            “Sounds good.” Grantaire smiled, kneeling to René’s level and spotting him while he turned over his head, taking René’s hips in his hands and guiding his legs over his head. The class clapped, and René bowed.

            “I like tap dancing too! Like in Newsies!” he explained, and the class chuckled again; all except Maya, who played with her dance shoes.

            “Great job, René, now go hang out next to Spencer and we’ll start class,”

            “You’re Spencer, right?” René whispered when he found his place beside the young man. Spencer smiled and nodded.

            “My Papa said you were nice!” he gave a little hop and stood on his toes.

            “I heard you were pretty cool too,” he replied.

 

The group danced until their break at 10:00, when most of the group gathered around René, talking to him while he ate his snack of goldfish and an apple juice box. Maya hung back, and Grantaire took notice. He sat beside her and crossed his legs, holding his ankles in his hands. She did not look up.

            “Hey,” Grantaire said. “You doing okay? You seem sad.”

            “Oh no, I just…I didn’t know you had a little boy.”

            “Yup I do! I’m not sure I understand why he’s getting you down, though…”

            “I just…It’s stupid, so never mind,” she forced a smile.

            “Someone I really look up to tells me all the time that feelings are never stupid. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, but don’t think your feelings are stupid, not ever.” He smiled, giving her a pat on the back.

            “I just…I was hoping to end this class with a date,” she admitted sheepishly. Grantaire felt himself blush.

            “Oh. Well, I’m flattered,” he smiled, “I am married, though.”

            “You must have a beautiful wife. Your son is gorgeous. His hair is so pretty,” she said with a grin. Grantaire smiled again and gave a little laugh.

            “I don’t have a wife…That might make you feel a little better about the date, too!” He stood and got his cell phone, turning it on and handing it to Maya, letting her scroll through his pictures. They were photos of Enjolras and René from the air port, saved pictures from text messages of René and Enjolras on Broadway, a photo Grantaire snuck of Enjolras asleep in their giant hotel bed, a silly selfie Grantaire snapped of he and Enjolras sharing a kiss.

            “I would never have guessed you were gay,” she said, handing the phone back, “and my gay-DAR is usually spot on!” she joked. Grantaire laughed.

            “Sorry I’ve jammed your gay-DAR!” she chuckled as well.

            “So René is your husband’s, then?”

            “He’s biologically Enjolras’, yeah,” he replied. Grantaire hated it when people referred to René as ‘Enjolras’’. He was both of theirs, even if he didn’t have any of Grantaire’s blood in him. “We got a donor and a surrogate. He was born in New York, actually.”

            “That’s cool. He looks just like your husband. I’m sure everyone says that!”

            “It’s a common observation,” he smiled.

            “Well he’s very sweet. I’m glad you brought him in!” She looked to the group gathered around René and scooted over, laughing with them as René explained his visit to the Natural History Museum.

            “We saw a mummy and it was scary, I didn’t like that part. But I liked seeing the Indian stuff!”

            “Native American Indian?” Maya asked.

            “mm hm!” René nodded. “I never saw that stuff before. They don’t have that in Paris,” he explained.

            “That must have been exciting!” Victoria smiled.

            “I like the bead shoes best. My uncle Combeferre gave me shoes like that because he’s from America and he’s a Lakota Indian, but I never saw so much Indian stuff! Only the things he has in his house. He lives downstairs from us.” Grantaire grinned. René’s little mind just bopped all over the place, and it was funny to listen to him talk. “He has lots of bead shoes that his mom makes him, and my cousin Caroline has an Indian outfit with lots of fringy stuff!”

            “Alright everyone! Ready to get back up?” Grantaire asked, clapping his hands together once to get their attention. Everyone stood and class continued.

            René kept up well despite Grantaire’s expectations that he would become bored, but he was tired at the end of class, and Grantaire saw him yawn as he pulled his shirt back over his head. He shook his hair out and walked to his duffle bag, pulling on his street shoes and taking out a notebook and pencil. Grantaire watched him, curious, as he walked to Victoria.

            “Hey Madam Victoria, can I have your street address?” he asked.

            “Sure! But what for?” she asked, writing her address in her neat, curling script.

            “So I can give you a post card drawing when I get home.” He grinned.

            “How nice of you! It was a pleasure to meet you, _petit pissenlit_!” she said with a wink. René grinned.

            “You said little dandelion! You know French?”

            “I do. I lived in France for five years!”

            “Wow that’s so great! I’ll make you a letter in French, okay?!”

            “Alright!” he smiled before giving her a hug, which she returned with a laugh, and running to the other students, taking each of their addresses. Spencer was last.

            “I have your dad’s phone number and email,” he said.

            “Yeah but writing on real paper is more fun!”

            “I feel.” Spencer added with a chuckle and wrote his name and address in René’s little book.

            “Thanks,” he smiled, giving Spencer a big hug, which he happily returned.

            “It was a pleasure working with all of you!” Grantaire said with a smile as everyone packed up their things. “My email is on my card, which you should all have, so if you’d like to say hello or you’re in my neck of the woods, drop a line!” he pulled his shirt on over his leotard and waved as the class left. As he did every day, Spencer stayed behind.

            “Hey R,” he said as Grantaire tied his street shoes. René played with his papa’s stubby bun absently with a yawn.

            “What’s up, Spencer?”

            “I told my parents.” He smiled.

            “Really? I’m proud of you!” he replied with a grin.

            “What did you tell them?” René asked.

            “I told them I’m gay.” He admitted with a small shrug. René gave him a quiet hug and smiled up at him.

            “Good job!”

            “Thanks, René,”

            “How was their reaction? Alright?”

            “Better than I thought…Really good, actually. They seemed happy, I think,”

            “Most of the time, parents just want you to be happy, and if guys make you happy, that’s what they want for you. That should make things a little easier for you. I felt much better after I told my foster dad. Email me, okay? Or call. I’d love to hear from you. I’ll miss you now that class is over!”

            “You were great. Thanks a lot. I feel a lot better now…about everything.”

            “Good. I’m glad.” He smiled, hoisting René up on his shoulders and beginning their walk home. René shouted after a short moment though.

            “Daddy!” he called, pointing. Spencer turned around, and Grantaire beaconed him back as Enjolras approached.          

            “Hey Enj.” He grinned, embracing him and kissing his hair, René still on his shoulders. “What are you doing here?”

            “I missed my loverboys.” He smiled. “Who’s this?” he asked, looking to Spencer.

            “This is my friend Spencer. He was the youngest in the class, but he did really well. Spencer, this is my husband, Enjolras,”

            “I pleasure to meet you, Spencer. I’ve heard a lot of good things about you!”

            “I’ve heard a lot about you too,” he replied shyly.

            “You remind me of Grantaire. You both act the same, you’re both taller than me…” he joked. Spencer laughed.

            “Not to offend, Enjolras, but you’re very short.” R smiled.

            “Yeah I know! Thanks for telling me!” he retorted.

            “Papa I want to take a bath in the big tub at the hotel!” René said, kicking his feet against Grantaire’s shoulders.

            “Oh quiet, René. Don’t be rude.” Enjolras scolded mildly.

            “That’s alright. I’m glad I got to meet you. All of you.” Spencer said before hurrying to catch his bus home.

            “He’s sweet,” Enjolras said with a smile. “He reminds me of you.”

            “He reminds me of me, too.” R replied, waving as Spencer boarded the bus.


End file.
